Love Lift Us Up
by CdnJAGScribe
Summary: From the wedding of Tosh and Meg to Harm, Mac, Tosh and Meg's first few years out in the Nevada Desert at Fallon, NV. (sequel to Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder) Warning: Some smut! (Don't say I didn't warn you!)
1. What Could Have Been

"Love Lift Us Up"

Author: Haruo Chikamori

E-mail: hhchikamori

Rating: M

Classification: Harm/Mac ; Animal/Meg

Spoilers: The events in this story happen after Gypsy Eyes – note Mac's AU upbringing will have changed things a lot. And frankly in order to make this whole story line fit, Mac doesn't meet up with Dalton (C)Lowne as…things transpire in this story…

Summary: Tosh & Meg plan their wedding; while Harm's jealousy over Meg having found a relationship causes Mac to enlighten Harm as to how she feels about him. (sequel to Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder)

DISCLAIMER: The characters Harm Rabb, Jr., Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie, Meg Austin, AJ Chegwidden, Bud Roberts, Harriet Sims-Roberts et al. belong (in concept if not name) to CBS/Bellisarius. Animal and all OC characters are the property of Heather and Hugo Chikamori. No profit is being made from this story, nor is any infringement intended.

Author's Note: This is for Saissa…and yes, there's smut, not explicit smut, but smut nonetheless. Here's a basic timeline of the stories so far:

1995 – Animal's MOH Investigation

1996 – Gone Flying - "We the People" events

1997 – Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder (Animal's final deployment from July 1997-January 1998)

1998 – Love Lift Us Up (Late Summer 1998)

_**JAG Headquarters**_

_**Falls Church, VA**_

_**Friday Afternoon**_

Lieutenant Meg Austin was looking rather frazzled. It wasn't so much the caseload, as it was the amount of other things that were on her plate. The cases were relatively simple: two Article 133 Conduct Unbecomings, an Article 89, and an Article 87. None of which should have been ordinarily capable of driving poor Meg to a state where she felt like throwing something at the wall.

Major Sarah Mackenzie grinned at her rather cantankerous friend. "Plans going great?" She asked – the question being returned by a glare. "Ah…" she nodded knowingly.

"The chapel that Tosh and I selected pulled out. It turns out the place was double booked for another wedding and they didn't tell us that. The caterers that we are looking at just don't have the menu that I'm looking for and the invitations came back on yellow paper not as a rich cream 107lb card stock…" Meg growled, her demeanor evidently frustrated, "The way it looks. I may as well set up centerpieces on each table with bananas and oranges at the local grocery store! And I don't know which one to use, the Gladiolus, Blue Rose, Purple Orchid and Calla Lilli centerpiece or the freesia, hydrangea and hyacinth. We picked a blue/white/yellow-gold theme in our wedding because of the fact that we're both Navy." Meg sighed in frustration, "…but think that you can find stuff in those colors that coordinate well? Oh, no… I might as well be asking someone to put a moon rock in the middle of the table."

Lieutenant j.g. Bud Roberts was walking past the door and Mac accosted him. "Bud, come here a minute."

"Yes, ma'am." A confused Bud was led into the room.

Picking up the two pictures of the floral centerpieces, Mac held them up and said. "Which one do you think looks good. A or B".

"Uh…" stammered Bud who felt like he was placed uncomfortably on the spot. "Isn't that something that Captain Nakamura should be answering?"

"Bud!" Meg growled. Bud always seemed like he was always confused.

"Sorry ma'am, but I mean…shouldn't that should be Captain Nakamura's call." Bud continued to stammer.

"We just want your opinion. Bud." Mac said pointedly.

"Well, Ma'am. I think I like the first one, Ma'am. More variety in the flowers and it looks nice…" Bud smiled even though he felt like he had been skewered and pinned in place. "I'm sure Captain Nakamura would like that too." He said as he hastily excused himself. Wedding plans tended to make the other sex run the other direction…fast. As Bud left the office, Meg sat down on her chair heavily and palmed her forehead, elbow on her desk.

"How are you holding up…" Mac asked as she knew Meg was frazzled with the wedding plans. "Does Captain Nakamura help you out with the plans?"

"Oh, he tries." Meg said as she looked at Animal's picture with a fond look crossing her face. "…but you know how men are. If they're not uncomfortable with wedding plans and run every time they see a catering list, they're clueless about how weddings should be color-coordinated and that there's a color scheme involved and that everything that comes into a wedding scenario needs to match that color scheme."

"So which category does Animal fall into. Chicken or Clueless?" Mac asked, a wicked little smile crossing her face.

"Oh, most definitely into the clueless side. He wants to help, but he doesn't have the faintest idea of what goes with what color and the fact is that instead of white, he tends to lean towards the usual ghost and battleship greys. I guess it's what he's used to in terms of aircraft coloring." Meg replied, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Well, considering he tends to lean towards blue when he wears civvies, I'm surprised." Mac replied remembering Animal usually wore blue jeans and either a jean shirt, or synthetic fabric tee. After all, Mac, Harm, Meg and Animal, when off-duty, tended to stick together like a pack; either hanging out at McMurphy's or doing something recreational outdoors. Of course, it was a standing joke amongst them that Animal wouldn't go near Sarah, Harm's biplane. Open cockpit flying; though historically the realm of the barnstormers was something that Animal wasn't the slightest bit fond of.

"…_but you're strapped down…" Harm had yelled over the prop noise of Sarah powering up. _

"…_yeah…and there's only that strap and 14,000 feet between me the ground should the restraint, built by the lowest bidder, snap…so thank you very kindly…but no thank you... I'll stick to terra firma…" Animal had yelled back. _

"…_then how the hell can you fly Tomcats?" Harm had returned back at Animal _

_Animal snapped back a retort "…the addition of plexiglass!"_

"He may be able to wear blue, but tell him to find it or a yellow/gold color that matches with what the centerpieces are and that's a whole different story." Meg said dryly as she remembered some of the samples that he had suggested – not even close to the color that she was looking for. "He's pretty much banned from making suggestions."

_**NAS Oceana, **_

_**Virginia Beach, VA**_

_**Commander, CVW-8's office. **_

"Hey!" RDML Jason "Rattler" Teague grinned as he stepped into the office in khakis, a single star on each collar emblazoned brightly.

"Hey yourself. Rattler." Animal looked up from his files noting the informal address. If he had said Captain, Animal would have utilized the sir. "That star looks good on you."

"Thanks, Animal." Rattler replied. "So how are the wedding-plans going with you and Meg?"

"Oh…I've been banned from the decision making process. Evidently…according to my beloved Meg, I'm color-blind. I didn't know there were that many permutations to the color wheel. To me yellow is yellow…not citrine, chartreuse, amber, apricot. Hell, Aureolin and Yellow look exactly the same to me. Can you tell the difference between Mikado Yellow, Selective Yellow and AMBER?" Animal threw up his hands. "I can't tell the difference! I can't tell the difference between Schoolbus Yellow and Gold. Geez."

Rattler chuckled heartily. "Yeah…well…that's women for ya."

"So…pretty much, my contribution to the day is…show up in my dress whites and sword and kiss the bride…"

"...and…" Rattler insinuated waving a hand in a circular 'give me more info' wave "please continue…".

"Ha ha ha…" Animal snorted dryly. "You have a dirty mind, Rattler."

"Hey, a mind is a fun thing to waste…and a gutter is only as dirty as you think it is." Rattler snickered.

_**Animal and Meg's Apartment**_

_**Richmond, VA**_

_**1930hrs**_

"Hey, you…" Meg grinned as she leaned into Animal's embrace. "How was work today." Meg and Animal had decided on a luxury apartment in Richmond. At least they could afford it on Animal's salary as an O-6. The reasoning behind the move was Meg's idea and at her insistence. If they had stayed in Reston as he had mentioned, it would work out to almost 3 and a half hours drive for Animal which meant that he would get less than four hours sleep a day considering he had to drive back and forth from Virginia Beach and NAS Oceana. Looking at the map, they determined Richmond was the half-way point. When they split the distance between them, it each worked out to about an hour and three-quarters drive per person which seemed much more palatable, at least in Animal's case…and it allowed Animal more time with Meg which Meg enjoyed and he didn't have to get out the door at zero-two hundred hours in the morning.

"Rattler dropped by. He's now working out of NAS Pax River, part of the crew who do the test and eval on weapons systems." Animal replied as he replied between the kisses that Meg laid on his lips as a concerto for transverse flute by Vivaldi played softly in the background. Meg ignored it as she put her concentration towards seducing Animal.

One of the things that Meg enjoyed about her fiancé was the fact that he tended to lean towards classical music for entertainment instead of the more popular rock music that other guys she had dated had done. Even though it wasn't her favorite form of music, Meg realized that her husband-to-be had eclectic tastes when it came to music and hobbies as she could tell by his photography equipment, especially a ten-thousand dollar super-telephoto for photographing wildlife. Yet he was an alpha-male, fighter jock.

"oh…is that so…" she murmured, "You said he had his rear admiral lower half?"

"yeah…and Gomer's now with the Joint Chiefs on the staff of Admiral Bill Corrigan the third, SACLANT/USCINCACOM." Animal replied as he grinned at Meg between her kisses.

"mmmmm…" Meg said as she smiled endearingly, her left hand going to his khakis and slowly unbuttoning the shirt while her right brushed his chest, massaging as it moved lower. That pretty much did it for Animal. He stopped relating his day, growled amorously, picked Meg up and carried her into the bedroom amid a burst of delighted laughter from Meg. So much for dinner.

_**Much later**_

Meg sighed looking at Animal as she caressed his bare chest. Her heart rate was coming back down after the exertions they had "Sweetie…" she murmured as her blue eyes met his dark brown ones. "That never fails to work, does it?" the innuendo apparent in her smile.

"Nope…" Animal replied as he leaned in for a kiss. "It never fails."

"Then I'll keep doing it…" she grinned mischievously at him. "After all the results are spectacular."

"Minx." He teased her as his arms went around Meg's bare shoulders to draw her to him. She acquiesced with an endearing whimper of pleasure, while she wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him inside.

"…only with you, my love…" she whispered as they began that age-old dance d'amour and then all words became lost as they gave and took what they desired from each other.

Dinner came much later for the two of them.

_**Meanwhile**_

_**McMurphy's Tavern**_

_**Falls Church, VA**_

Harm sighed as he pulled at his drink. He was thinking long thoughts about his partner of over two years. Meg was a hell of a great partner. She had always backed him up in any situation whether it had been trying to go in to uncover a Defense Security Division (DSD) rogue operation or covering for him and getting shot in the head by Hemlock.

While they were on Shadow, he had put her on the spot about how good her code-breaking skills were:

"_I can decipher computer codes in as little as 30 seconds, sir." Meg had responded, _

"_And as long as…" he had tried to throw her off her game just to prove a point that she wasn't as good as Kate. _

"_Three days, but that was in Chinese." Meg returned. And damn, she was good at verbal comebacks. _

She also had a scathingly witty and raunchy repartee. Especially in Lima, when they went down to investigate a shooting incident of a young Peruvian boy by a Marine guard.

"_If security gets any tighter, they'll be strip searching us." Harm grinned at Meg. _

_Her response shocked him right to the very core. "Don't get my hopes up, sir."_

Or when they were investigating the death of a Navy pilot in evac drills for a space shuttle launch, she had shown him just how learned she was. Hell, he didn't even realize that particular physics law existed.

"_First time supersonic, Lieutenant?" Harm asked with a cheesy grin. _

"_No, sir, just my first time as a lawyer." Meg riposted. _

"_How do I rate?" Harm asked curious to know her reaction. _

"_Could have done without the snap-roll." She retorted. _

"_I had to leave an impression." Harm grinned looking at her as they walked down the flight line. _

"_And you could have used a little more runway…" Meg said snidely. _

"_You want a long roll-out, fly the Air Force." Harm said cheekily as he grinned a great big Navy flier's grin. _

"_Oooh. Careful, Harm, we're in their territory." Meg said looking around to see if anyone heard the loudmouth Navy lawyer fighter-jock. _

"_There's a lot of friendlies around here, Meg, The space program likes Navy pilots, we make their best astronauts," Harm said with a self-satisfied grin. _

"_Yeah, I think I read that somewhere…" Meg said as she matched him stride for stride as they walked down the tarmac. "…in Kepler's Laws of Planetary Motion." _

"_Hey…all I need to say is that the first American in space was not an Air Force jock…" Harm said smugly "they put up a man who knew how to make a trap." _

"_Then why was the first man in orbit a Marine?" Meg said. Pretty much…that ended that repartee. OUCH!_

And the fact that she had stuck up for him ever since they found out that Diane had been murdered. But as Harm found out to his dismay, Meg's capacity for a relationship and her emotional maturity has far outstripped his when he found out that his old Reserve Air Group instructor and long-time friend had developed an intimate relationship with his legal partner. He realized that since Meg was in JAG's chain of command of which he was a cog, a relationship with her would be damned near impossible. And the fact that just recently when Harm saw that engagement ring on Meg's finger, that potential relationship road had just dead-ended abruptly for him. But that didn't stop him from melancholic reminiscences of "what could have been"…

"Hey, penny for your thoughts?" A voice intruded on his reverie. Harm looked up to see Mac's concerned look.

"Hi, Mac. What brings you here?" he sighed tiredly. He wasn't up for an interrogation and took a long pull of his drink.

"You look like someone told you your dog died." Mac said with a concerned look.

"Naw, just thinking on what could have been." Harm replied. "You know Meg and I were partners for well over an year…now going on almost two."

Mac looked at him. "Yeah…and now that she's engaged and planning her wedding, you're thinking you should have made your move for her, right?" Harm gave her a sharp look as if to say that Mac had touched a tender spot that still hurt. His silence spoke volumes. "You know, you've got to come to terms with her decision." Mac continued. "…and respect her choice. And don't forget that you have choices in front of you too." She continued, a small smile on her face.

"Oh, really, Mac?" Harm said, his tone dry, as he took another drink of his beer.

"Yes, really…Harm." Her face softened. "It's not like you haven't made an impression on other people in JAG as well…"

"But they're all in the chain of command." He protested softly looking into the bottle. How many had he drank? Oh, that's right, the other four were sitting on the table beside him.

"I wasn't saying that the choices would be easy, Harm." Mac said, giving him another smile. "But there are women who give a damn about you, besides your legal partner."

Harm took a long moment to decipher all that. "Would you count yourself in that list? Mac?"

"Probably pretty close to the top…" Harm's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Mac's eyes were holding his.

"Since when…?" Harm asked hoarsely – the alcohol was starting to affect his mind, he thought. He was hearing things.

"Red Rock Mesa." Mac admitted softly. "When I pulled you into the helo…and I fell for you hard when you said that you would defend Uncle Matt. You can't know just how much that meant to me."

"I'm just sorry it didn't turn out the way that you hoped it would have." Harm said.

"I know, Harm, but you got him a mitigation of sentence. Normally for that kind of treason, he would have been on Death Row at Leavenworth. Twenty-five years with possibility of parole is far more of a leniency than I would have imagined. I was hoping at best for Life without parole." Mac said, a glassy look in her eyes that spoke of tears behind those brilliant brown orbs of hers. "Now…did you come here in your car?" She cleared her throat to deflect the hoarseness in her voice.

Harm nodded. "Yeah, the Stingray's here."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to get you home…" Mac said as she extended the palm of her right hand. Harm looked at her. "Keys, Harm, you're drunk. You need to have a designated driver and as far as I know, I'm it."

Harm gave her a glassy smile. "Love you, jarhead…"

"Alright…save the PDAs for when we get you home." Mac replied, blushing. She looked at the bottles lined up on the table. Five bottles of Sam Adams Triple Bock. He would be swimming in alcohol. She shook her head as she mentally calculated just how much his blood-alcohol content would be if he had drunk that one after the other. Considering Triple Bock had an alcohol content of over 17%, Harm would be well over 0.08 in BAC and he had been sitting there for at maximum 2 and a half hours. Harm would probably be regretting his decision to drink tomorrow since his head would more than likely be splitting.

Walking him to the passenger side of the 1968 cherry-red Corvette Stingray, she bundled him in, buckling him, allowing him a beery kiss on the cheek. "Now, I'm going to drive you home…" she said as she buckled herself in after getting in on the driver's seat. She started the car and slowly pulled out of the parking space into the driving lane fully respecting the power of the vehicle that she controlled.

"Thanks for driving me home…" Harm said, slightly slurring his words. "I appreciate that… Mac."

"Not a problem. After drinking those beers, you'd be in serious trouble if you ran into a police road-check." Mac said. There was no answer. "Harm? Harm!?" She looked over. Harm had passed out in the passenger seat. She smiled shaking her head as she continued to drive on towards Harm's apartment in the Union Station area.

_**Harm's Apartment**_

_**North of Union Station**_

_**Washington DC **_

Harm had roused himself just long enough to get them into the apartment, via the elevator and by unlocking the door. He grinned an intoxicated smile at Mac and said again, "I love you…Mac." To which Mac wondered if it was the beer talking but she took it at face value.

He pretty much collapsed, his legs like gelatin into the sofa, sitting there with an inebriated grin plastered on his face. "You're taking this really hard, aren't you?" Mac said, stating the obvious.

"I thought at one point that I loved her." Harm said.

"…but you couldn't tell her…" Mac finished his sentence for him. He nodded, his intoxicated state making his head bob as violently as a bobble-head.

"It wasn't in the cards. She was in JAG, so was I. Chalk it up to love lost…" He said somewhat airily. Yes, it was the beer talking, Mac was sure of it.

"Well, think of it that way…if you want." Mac said, getting on knees beside him next to the edge of the sofa where he was propping himself up with an elbow to keep his head from slamming against the arm-rest. "I prefer to think of it as her allowing me the opportunity." She grinned at him.

"…opportunity…?" Harm asked quizzically, his eyes bleary. "Why would you want a washed up ex-fighter jock like me who couldn't cut it when it came down to the crunch?"

"Harm…" Mac warned, "Don't talk like that. You're a capable aviator. Remember, you gave Animal plenty of trouble up there when you went down to Oceana for air to air combat." She fastened a hard look at Harm. "I'm not going to have you talking yourself down into a pit of despair. Now I don't know about air combat, but to me, two wins out of seven fights against an aviator considered one of the top ranking fighter jocks in the Navy is what I would consider not 'washed up'. So Harmon Rabb, you stop talking like that." She paused. "…and as to why I want you…" She fastened her lips onto his, as she leaned in, her brown eyes fastening onto his steel-grey-hazel ones. "I told you why, at McMurphy's. Now you let me decide from hereon in as to why I want you and decide to stick with you. Why did you think I came with you to Russia when we found out about your Dad?"

Harm groaned solidly as her lips again fastened onto his. "Mac…I'll never forget that. You did come with me as far as anyone would ever go." he said softly…his voice almost soft enough to be a supplication. "But we're both in JAG…how will we make this work?" he protested weakly, his heart wasn't in the protest. He just wanted to be able to feel again. The thoughts of his father lying in his final resting place in the tundra in Siberia, and now his partner in JAG planning to marry someone else. There was only one person who had stuck with him through thick and thin and that was Mac.

Mac just smiled. "Well, when your head stops pulsating from all the drinking that you did at McMurphy's maybe we just need to figure out how we're going to fix that situation. Now you smell like a sailor that fell into the bilge tank. So what should we do to solve that problem, hmmmm?" She smiled.

"I guess I should take a shower." Mac smiled as Harm said this. "Maybe that might sober me up some." Harm said as he staggered to his feet, with Mac's aid.

"five times seventeen percent…hmmm. Probably doubt it, but it'll keep you from smelling like a plugged head." Mac replied, as she gave him another kiss. "At least you didn't drink enough to purge your stomach, but if you do feel sick, make sure you get into the head before you upchuck all over your nicely finished floor.

"Thanks, jarhead." Harm said sarcastically, his loving look taking away some of the bite.

"Don't mention it." Mac returned smiling affectionately at her sailor.

While Harm staggered into his shower, stripping clothes and throwing them onto the floor, Mac pulled out a glass, poured some water into it and threw three ice-cubes into it to keep it cold. Plain water was reputed to be the best antidote for the dehydrating effects of alcohol. Shaking her head, she went up to what passed for the bathroom in Harm's place and laid the glass on the counter. "Drink up." She said. "It's water, it'll help sooth that pounding head in the morning. And drink plenty of it." Harm groaned over the sound of the water pounding his body. Mac looked over to see him in all his glory. "Don't groan. You dehydrated yourself with all that beer, so chasing it away with a morning hair of the dog is out of the question. You'll just make yourself feel worse." Her tongue felt thick herself, speaking, as she saw him lean out, bare shoulders, bare waist, bare…everything. As much as she wanted to jump him right there and then, Mac realized that taking advantage of him being drunk was probably not the best way to start off an intimate relationship. So with some difficulty, she pulled herself away from what she thought of as a delicious vision and started to exit the bathroom, in the meantime thinking that she had to splash some water on her face or at the very least cool herself with a fan.

"Mac?" Harm's voice stopped her. "You wouldn't be taking advantage of me…" His eyes looked much clearer as she turned around to gaze at him. How the hell was it that he could read her mind? Or was she that blatantly apparent with her examining look of him?

"I…I…" Mac stammered. "This…could be…a…bad…" as Harm stepped completely out of the shower in absolutely nothing. His hair was plastered to his head and droplets of water streaked down his well-muscled body. "Oh…to hell with it…" she said, and started removing her own clothes. In two strides, Harm was beside her, helping her out of her clothes.

"Mac, I want you." He said hoarsely as he looked into her eyes. And he wasn't seeing his lost lover this time around. "You're not a rebound or an unrequited love. You're my friend and have been since Red Rock Mesa." Seeing her naked before him, he pulled her towards the shower. "Share the shower with me?" he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Are we going to get any showering done?" Mac asked snidely as she reached down to caress him.

"Maybe…" Harm said as he pulled her into the shower… "Maybe not…" and all their troubles and unrequited romances were completely forgotten as two unclothed bodies met under the showerhead.

In the middle of the shower, Mac asked him. "Harm…my clothes…my underthings. I'm gonna be clean, but they won't be…" The water pounded against her scalp as she looked up at him.

"I'll toss them in the wash and the dryer…when we're done…" Harm grinned as he looked at her.

"So that means, I won't be going home tonight." She breathed heavily as Harm lifted her against the shower glass block wall as she wrapped her legs around him to gather him in. "…oh god…yes…" she moaned.

_**Harm's Apartment**_

_**North of Union Station**_

_**Washington DC **_

_**Saturday Morning**_

_**0730 hrs**_

Mac's eyes slowly opened to the smell of bacon and eggs frying on the stove. Her mind barely registered the fact that this was a strange place to be waking up in since it wasn't her apartment in Georgetown. She felt deliciously satisfied and down there ached. She looked at the chair beside the large bed that she was lying in and realized her clothes were on the chair neatly folded with her clean under things on top. She blushed as what they had done flooded back into her memory.

"Harm?" she called out.

"In the kitchen." Was the reply back from beyond the glass block wall. Ignoring her clean clothing, she slowly got up. Wrapping a blanket around her naked body, she grinned to herself as she shamelessly walked over to him. "Hey…Good morning, squid." She murmured softly.

"Morning, jarhead." He grinned.

"Water helped?" Mac asked innocently.

"Yeah. A lot. My head doesn't hurt so much and my tongue doesn't feel like the end of a Q-tip." Harm replied, looking around at her dressed in a blanket and nothing else. "Don't feel like getting dressed yet?"

"Not really…" Mac answered insinuatingly causing Harm's eyebrows to shoot up to the general vicinity of his hairline.

"I stopped by the 24hr on my morning run." Harm replied. "I don't have any meat in my fridge so I figured I'd better get at least some eggs and your requisite morning helping of sliced dead pig."

"mmmm…" Mac sighed. "…and I'm sure that I should definitely thank you for that…" she replied. "Breakfast in bed?"

"Could be enticed." Harm replied.

"So let's eat breakfast and take a shower?" Mac suggested. "If I'm going to be hanging out here all weekend, I think I should get a change of clothes at my place."

_**Animal and Meg's Apartment**_

_**Richmond, VA**_

_**0900 hrs**_

"Good morning, sweetie." Meg rolled over on top of her husband-to-be. "I think we should get up."

"Mmmmm." Animal groaned almost inaudibly as he felt his fiancée on top of him. "Breakfast first or shower first?" he asked softly as he looked into Meg's eyes.

"I'm leaning towards breakfast first." Meg said, "I'm hungry." She purred as she reached down to caress Animal.

Animal gave her an amorous leer. "You do that, Meg, and we won't be having breakfast anytime soon."

"Promise?" Meg teased him with a twinkling of merriment in her eyes…and then gasped as Animal picked her up and sat her down on him filling her inside in an instant, his eyes darkening as they met her low-lidded gaze.

"Told you…" He growled as he bucked, causing her to moan audibly.

"Oh…yes…" she gasped out, her eyes closed and she purred softly. "I think I'll just think of you as my horse…"

At that…Animal wondered how many words there were for "Oh God!" in Japanese because if anything, Meg decided to set the pace of their lovemaking. (Author's note: Told you there was going to be smut! See, I warned you…)

_**JAG Headquarters**_

_**Falls Church, VA**_

_**Monday Morning**_

_**0730 hrs**_

"Sir, Major Mackenzie and I need to speak with you, sir." Harm stated to Rear Admiral (upper half) AJ Chegwidden as he and Mac stood there.

"What is it…" AJ sounded busy, he barely even looked up from his desk. "What can I do for you?"

"Sir." Mac said, her voice hesitant. "We need to discuss a change in our relationship status."

The file slammed to the desktop, as AJ looked up at them with a disbelieving look on his face. "Commander, Major, didn't I tell you to not get close? That you'd be working together?!"

"Yes, sir." They both locked up.

"Then how is it…" AJ's eyebrows went up "…that two years from the day that you two were assigned to work with each other on the Red Rock Mesa, Declaration of Independence theft you come walking in to my office telling me that you two are together…in a way that I don't want to even consider." His voice had gone from a low growl to a sheet of ice.

"Well, sir, it just happened, sir." Mac said wincing as AJ fastened a fiery glare at her.

"…and you have some input? Commander?" AJ growled at Lieutenant Commander Rabb.

"Well, sir, I want to explore our relationship, er…I mean, the Major's and my relationship, sir, I was hoping to request a transfer out of the JAG command in order so that we are not in violation of any rules and regulations…and or any part of the UCMJ, sir."

"Goddamnit, Rabb. You couldn't keep it in your pants, could you?" Mac blushed as AJ said this with no shortage of vehemence. "Just who the hell am I supposed to bring in to replace you? We're already short on experienced trial lawyers? Give me a week to figure this out, you two. No kissy-facey in the office. And if I see your door closed without both of you in there on opposite sides of the desk discussing a case with case-folders open, I'm going to run you up a yardarm with an Article 133 so fast your head will be spinning in both directions and civilians will mistake you for a goddamned weather vane in a twister." AJ snapped out. "Dismissed!" The two officers about-faced and headed for the door.

"Major. I'd suggest you walk off the ache in your legs." AJ growled ominously.

"Sir?" Mac turned around startled, a questioning look in her eyes.

"You came into my office looking like you just got off a horse!" Mac blushed again as she hurried to exit the office.

As the door closed, AJ chuckled to himself. "About goddamned time." He said to himself.

_**JAG Headquarters**_

_**Falls Church, VA**_

_**Monday Morning**_

_**Mac's Office**_

_**0800 hrs**_

Mac looked up to see Meg come into the office. Mac's keen eyes noticed that Meg was kind of walking gingerly too. "I think you could use a walk…" Mac opined. Meg looked at her funny.

"What? Ma'am." Meg asked.

"Meg…were you riding over the weekend?" Meg's face turned beet red. "Ahhhh…" Mac grinned. "I just got told the same thing by the admiral no less…" Meg's face lost her confusion and then a smile came across it.

"You…" she started and then glanced towards Harm's office. "You…and…" a slow smile crossed her face. "I take it you spent the weekend?"

Mac blushed crimson…"Too much of the weekend…" she admitted. "Enough so that the admiral noticed. Of course he doesn't talk to you about it, because you two aren't in the same office. There's no possibility of contravention of frat regs." She paused for a moment. "We just talked to the admiral…" she stated. "One of us is going to have to transfer out so that the relationship works."

"I'm glad for you." Meg said as she looked over at Mac who seemed happier than Meg had seen her. Despite her normal ebullient nature, Mac did have a tinge of sadness about her. Meg recognized it as loneliness because until Animal had come into Meg's life, she felt the same way and knowing that Harm was in the same chain of command, there was no chance of a relationship.

"Harm was having a full-on drinking session…seemed as though he was depressed." Mac stated.

"Ah…" Meg said knowingly. "I know why…"

"You do?" Mac asked.

"It's because we were partners for so long. You don't go as partners for over a year without both drawing close to each other. I guess he did fall for me." The admission did pain Mac a little, but she knew that she now had Harm and would love him as best as she could. "You're good for him, Mac. I'm with Toshio and he knows that. Tosh and I have made a commitment to each other, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health…though we haven't said our vows yet. Harm needs to be able to love someone…and I'm glad that it's you." Meg said smiling, tears in her eyes for both of her friends. Mac got up out of her desk and smiled, extending her hands out to hold Meg's.

"Thanks…Meg. I wasn't sure if I was going to get your blessing…" Mac said gratefully.

"Why ever would you need it? I made my choice with Tosh." Meg said. "Take care of Harm for me. He's a sweet guy. And he loves you…if he's willing to sacrifice a career at JAG for you and get transferred out." She grinned. "Now, I think I'd better go have a talk with Mr. Lucky-Britches here and set his head on straight."

_**JAG Headquarters**_

_**Falls Church, VA**_

_**Monday Morning**_

_**Harm's Office**_

_**0815 hrs**_

"Hey, pardner." Meg grinned at Harm as she poked her head in the doorway. "How's things?"

"Well…great, I guess." Harm said, casually glancing over at Mac's office. "Just got chewed out by the admiral, nothing new…"

"I see…" Meg replied snidely. "So…which one of you is going to have to transfer out?" she said smiling at his reaction as his jaw hit the floor.

"How…How…" he stammered.

"Oh, just talked to your girlfriend." Meg winked as she raised the Texas Longhorns' sign. "She mentioned something about the entire weekend?"

"Uh…you're just fishing, Meg…" Harm tried to dissemble as he looked at Meg's disbelieving look on her face.

"Suuure…Harm." She said disbelievingly "…and pigs'll fly." She stepped in and shut the door, sitting down on the chair opposite Harm's on the other side of the desk. "Harm, you know Tosh and I love each other." Meg started, a serious tone to her voice.

"Yeah." Harm sat down too on his chair. "I noticed that, especially the engagement ring on your finger. That pretty much sealed the deal for me, that you and he were serious."

"Harm, you also know that when I gave my heart to Tosh, that I couldn't be with you." Meg said. "But now you have that lovely Marine Major who loves you so much."

"Is that what you two were talking about all those times you two were chatting over lunch?" Harm asked.

"The truth is, I can't hurt you, by telling you that at one point that I hoped that we would be an item, because the rules and regs prevented that." Meg stated firmly looking at him. "But suffice it to say, with the partnership that we had, there was something that always kept us together and that something was the fact that I did care for you. But then again, we both have people now that care about us." Meg said looking over at Harm. "You have to make some hard choices, Harm. One of them is to let me go. Don't let me hold sway over your heart. We'll always be friends but you have Mac now and you need to give her one hundred percent of your heart. The second is what do you do with your career and where can you go in the Navy that will enable you to keep on an upwards career path. And hey, you know Mac and I will be partners so you have the best of both worlds." She grinned.

Harm looked at her. "You came in here to tell me all that just to cheer me up?" He grinned. "Meg, you're a sweetheart. You're always caring for everyone. Animal is a lucky guy to have you. Make sure he knows that."

"Oh…more than he knows. Of course he thanks me for it every morning." She winked saucily at Harm whose eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. "By the way, how are you feeling? Managed to fully recover from that hangover?"

Harm shot a look over at Mac's office. "I had the best of care." He said thinking back to the weekend. "I've never drunk so many glasses of water, thought I was about to get water poisoning. But she also made me eat a ton too so that I never was in any danger of that."

_**NAS Oceana**_

_**Virginia Beach, VA**_

_**0930 hrs**_

Animal grinned as he looked over at his wingman who was off his starboard wing on Runway 5R as they got ready to fly. Operational flying was drawing to a close for his career, but he was still the CAG of CVW-8 at least until they found a replacement CAG. His mount _Texas Gal_ was in tip-top shape owing to a great crew-chief who took pride in Animal's aircraft being the best maintained Tomcat of the East Coast fighter squadrons.

Strapped to both starboard and port pylons were Mk. 76 practice bombs as well as four in the tunnel where normally 4 Phoenixes or 4 Sparrows would go.

"Scooter, you with me?" Animal asked his backseater.

"You betcha." Commander Joe "Scooter" Willis grinned as he looked over at Animal through the gap between the NACES ejection seat and the plexiglass just enough to make his face visible in the rear views.

"Metalman, you with me?" Animal asked his wingman whose ordnance was similarly equipped. After receiving the affirmative from Metalman. Animal radioed the tower. "Oceana Tower, Fast Eagle One-Zero-Zero, Departure Tidewater Clearance, enroute Dare Bombing Range, Takeoff requested Runway Five Left."

"Roger, that, Fast Eagle One Zero Zero, Departure Tidewater Clearance, to Dare Bombing Range; Takeoff Allowed Runway Five Left. Have a good flight, sir."

"Roger that." From years of practice, Animal eased the throttle up past its detents to full military power then to Zone 2 afterburner. The rumble and vibration of the TF-30s were comforting. Because _**Texas Gal**_ was a "A" Tomcat, there would be no rough handling of her throttles. Two many times, coneheads had gotten into nasty situations where one engine would flame out, the other at full power throwing the F-14 into an irrecoverable flat spin – the reason behind this being the distance between the burner cans. Unlike the F/A-18 they weren't together, there was at least eight feet space between the burner cans which meant that the center of balance varied drastically from left to right. If the left engine cut out, full thrust on the right meant that the F-14 would pitch left, the opposite being the case if the right engine cut out. The only solution to prevent such a catastrophic spin was to chop throttle on the engine still at full power. That required a skill that most cones hadn't mastered yet. And it was only a finely honed pianist of a fighter pilot that could sense the initiation of a flameout, just by the feel of the vibrations through the fuselage.

Metalman matched Animal's throttle-power on his own F-14A Tomcat as simultaneously, they both released the brakes and commenced their takeoff roll. As they reached the second horizontal marking on the runway, Animal hit full Zone 5 afterburner. Anyone looking would have seen a blue tongue of flame coming out the back of the F-14 regardless of the daylight. Pulling up the nose, the Tomcat instantly got light on its rear wheels as if anxious to leave the ground. Animal felt the main-mounts leave the runway and pulled the lever for gear up. The lack of drag as the F-14's gear doors closed brought an extra burst of speed. And as Animal cleared the end of the runway, he cranked the F-14's nose into the sky; Metalman right behind him, as the F-14's TF-30s gave them thrust to claw for altitude at an eighty degree angle. The altitude indicator spun counting up the angels.

"Metalman! Angels three-two." Animal said. "Commencing pitch-over." Rolling over inverted, Animal pulled the stick back to put the F-14 in level flight, then snap-rolled to wings level.

"Roger that, Skipper." Metalman radioed to Animal. "Turning to Starboard… Enter Dare on VOR Radial Zero Three Zero?"

"Concur." Animal radioed back. "VOR Radial Zero Three Zero."

The two Tomcats arced in a wide turn towards the Dare County Bombing Range. The intended target was a series of hovels in an urban setting. The Mk. 78s would throw up smoke to indicate the hit or miss.

"Skipper, three minutes to target. Heading 030 degrees. Airspeed 635 knots." Scooter indicated from the rear bang-seat.

Animal kept an eagle eye on the HUD. The Bombing reticle hovered over the small little rectangles in the distance that appeared to be hovels. One couldn't miss the cutout of bombing range from the surrounding nature reserve so there was no danger of the F-14s dropping on an active street or, heaven forbid, into a neighborhood. As the center of the reticle aligned with the building, Animal released the Mk. 78s. A simple chunk sound indicated the bombs had released and dropped. "Fast Eagle One Zero Zero, ordnance away." Animal radioed as he cranked the F-14 skyward.

"Fast Eagle One One Four, ordnance away." Metalman radioed as he also turned his nose skyward and booted Zone 3, jinking against simulated anti-aircraft fire.

"Mission is good." Animal grinned. "Got seven of eight solid hits, How about you, Metalman?"

"Six out of eight, CAG. You still beat me, even with your eyesight deteriorating." Metalman grinned.

"HA, We'll see about that…" Animal retorted. "Let's RTB." The two Tomcats formed up on each other's wing and headed Northwest back towards Oceana.

Coming into the Oceana break, the two Tomcats peeled off as they set up for final.

Looking up from the tarmac, two of VF-241's aviators looked up to see the Black Aces Tomcats turning on to final with a snappy break. One Blackjack squadron member said to the other albeit with some note of envy. "Show-offs."

"Well, they got two Sukhoi kills, and three MiG kills and what do we have? One Hind to show?" the other returned.

_**JAG Headquarters**_

_**Falls Church, VA**_

_**Meg's Office**_

_**Tuesday Morning**_

_**0930 hrs**_

Mac poked her head in the office door. "Hey, Meg. Did you ever manage to get a chapel rebooked?"

"Not yet."

"Well, Archbishop Mackey at Chapel of the Good Shepherd in Virginia Beach says that he has an opening…maybe we should contact him?" Mac asked gauging Meg's reaction, "That way you and Animal have a date booked, because it seems like everything else seems to have been taken care of."

Meg's smile brightened her office. "God, Mac…thanks…that would be great. The food and caterers are on notice…they're ready to go whenever we get a chapel booked." Picking up the phone, she dialed.

"Hey, sweetheart." Meg said as she looked over at Mac and grinned, lifting a thumbsup, then hit the speaker phone.

"Hey…there…sweetie." Animal's voice could be heard over the speaker-phone.

"Mac says that she found us a chapel. In Virginia Beach, no less." Meg replied. "Any chance you could check it out for us and book us in on that opening that they have."

"Not a problem. It's a four hour drive from where you are, so since I'm on base, it's easier for me to check it out." Animal's voice was cheery.

"It's Lutheran, I hope you don't mind, sir." Mac said.

"Not at all, Major." Animal's tone was cheery. "I'll go check them out and if they have an opening, as you say, I'll book it for Meg and myself and the rest of the wedding party."

_**Animal and Meg's Apartment**_

_**Richmond, VA**_

_**1800 hrs**_

Animal got home at about the same time that Meg parked her car in the parkade beside him. "Hey…sweetie!" Animal called out as he exited his vehicle, wrapping his Meg in a tight embrace as their lips met. Her eyes looked up at him questioningly. "We have the church in two weeks." He grinned. "It looks perfect." Her eyes gleamed as he said this.

"Oh, great." She smiled at him. This was perfect and that finally meant that they would be able to exchange vows and become husband and wife.

When the elevator stopped at their floor, they exited. This was Richmond, VA's newest tower apartment. Animal had managed to get a two bedroom apartment on the twentieth floor for about one point two million. They had put sixty-five thousand down as a down-payment, the majority of it Animal's money as he had the higher salary as a Navy captain and the monthly payment on the apartment was five-thousand, eight hundred and forty eight dollars a month. There was a maintenance fee to the homeowner's association and insurance premiums which Meg covered, and the mortgage payment came out of Animal's account. For now, Meg and Animal shared the second bedroom as a home office and used the primary master-bedroom for their sleeping quarters. The layout was open and spacious with what almost looked like floor to ceiling windows in the living room along with a nice spacious balcony to look upon the finer neighborhoods in Richmond. The kitchen was something that Meg loved. There was enough space to move around in and the one thing that Meg hated was not having enough cabinet space in some of the places that she had lived in previous to her relationship with Animal. The amount of cabinet space in this apartment was a prime consideration when moving to this place. It more than adequately filled the requirements that Meg required for this to be the perfect kitchen – enough cabinet space.

As Animal unlocked their apartment door, Meg sighed. This would be their marital home, she thought to herself. She looked over with affection in her eyes at Animal's questioning look. "It's been over a year since we moved into this place and I still feel like this place is new to us every time we open the door." She explained.

"I love the view." Animal replied as they stepped in, shutting the door and locking the deadbolts. After changing out of their uniforms into civvies, Animal grinned at Meg who was bustling around getting things together for dinner. She looked absolutely industrious. Stepping behind her, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck. "Hey, sweetie…what's for dinner?" he asked cheekily.

Meg gave him an annoyed swat on the arm. "Nothing, honey, if you don't let me cook. You know how much your kissing me on the neck arouses me." She turned in his arms and returned his kiss on the lips. "And just for your information, sweetheart, dinner tonight is stir fried chicken with noodles." She said saucily. "That should appeal to your palate." One of Animal's favorite asian dishes.

"mmmm…" he murmured softly. "that sounds good."

As he wrapped his arms around Meg and lovingly kissed her, she said, "Honey, if you don't let me go, the dinner's going to be burned." But said with a purr. "I will however take you up on your offer after dinner." Her twinkling eyes promised a night of fun.


	2. Happily Ever After

_**JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA, 1600 hrs**_

The two weeks seemed to go quickly as the last-minute preparations were taken care of. Meg and Animal had dealt with a number of problems pertaining to the caterers, the menu that was available and it seemed like everything was taken care of. The wedding plans were moving smoothly and Meg was reassured of the fact that the rest of the nuptials would go as planned. Meg realized the closer that they got to the wedding, the more efficient Animal was at organizing things and that he actually was good at organizing. Gone were the confusion and the inability to make heads or tails out of different colors etc and in the place of the confused Animal was a whiz at logistics. He attacked a wedding like he would attack a battle striking at effective points and clearing a way through the maelstrom that constituted the final wedding plans. And deep down in her heart, Meg knew that Animal wanted this as much as she did.

Meg saw that there had been a significant change at JAG Headquarters over the past two weeks. With the disclosure of the new intimate relationship between Harm and Mac, the admiral had to send one of them away. And Harm was the one to go. Mac stayed and Harm headed off to the Pentagon to be on the staff of a three-star admiral which was a significant boost to his career. He would be assisting the Staff Judge Advocate of Naval Air Forces – Atlantic – the COMNAVAIRLANT. Mac missed him at work, but she knew that he would be waiting at home. Meg grinned as she thought that it would probably not be long before Mac was sporting a ring on her own finger if Harm had his way.

Looking over the files she was to hand over to her relief attorney as she would be away for two weeks on her honeymoon, she grinned at LCDR Alan Mattoni who said. "Well, Lieutenant, I guess this is it for two weeks."

"Yes, sir, it is." Meg replied.

"Well…congratulations, Lieutenant Austin and please give my regards to the Captain." He said as he collected the files and exited Meg's office.

It was to be a small intimate ceremony with only family and close personal friends there. Harm and Mac would be there, as would be Harriet and Bud. The admiral was coming as were Animal's friends from his air wing. Scooter was his best man and Rattler and Tree would be groomsmen. Animal's former battle-group commander would be there as well – RADM James Pointer now VADM and COMNAVAIRPAC, the reason being that the former battle-group commander had been a good friend, a mentor and an effective advocate for Animal during the situation with the DCAG's baseless accusations. He was a part of what Meg considered Animal's military family.

As far as Animal's career was concerned, it hadn't been decided exactly yet, what he was going to do. There was a position opening up with the promotion of outgoing NSAWC commander RDML Michael Foss at the Navy Strike and Air Warfare Centre. It would allow Animal to keep his hand on the stick and throttle for a little while longer. But it all depended on the CNO. Meg was of two minds about this. She wanted Animal to keep flying the aircraft he loved, but still that would mean a move to Nevada or what would be a marriage apart from each other for the year as she worked at the Falls Church JAG office. Would she be able to get a switch to Fallon's Staff Judge Advocate? That was a question that needed to be answered. Picking up the phone, she called the Admiral's Yeoman. "Tiner?"

"Yes, ma'am." Yeoman 2nd Class Jason Tiner replied. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

"I need to speak with Admiral Chegwidden." Meg replied.

About ten minutes later, she was in AJ's office. "Lieutenant". AJ raised his eyebrow. "So…what is this about?"

"Well, sir?" Meg said "I just wondered if it was possible to get a spousal co-location request in so that there will be time enough to process it before a posting becomes official?"

"Has your fiancé come to a decision yet with regards to his posting?" AJ asked with some alacrity.

"No, sir." Meg replied with a hint of wistfulness in her tone. "But a position that he will most assuredly express interest in has just come open. The Naval Strike and Air Warfare Center commander has just been promoted and the position has now become vacant. If he gets the position, I will have to transfer to the Staff Judge Advocate office at NAS Fallon, sir." The reluctance to take that step was apparent but both AJ and Meg knew that Meg would have to take that position. AJ also knew that Meg's fiancé would jump at the chance to stay in the cockpit for a few more years. In that regards he knew that Captain Tosh Nakamura was too much like Lieutenant Commander Rabb.

"…or remain apart for the first year and a half of your marriage." AJ nodded knowingly. "And that is stressful to any couple let alone a couple who is newly-married. Plus it is the one position that will assure Captain Nakamura of his promotion to Rear Admiral Lower Half."

_**Pentagon, Chief of Naval Operations Office, 1600hrs**_

"Animal, it's good to see you." The CNO grinned at Animal. "I'm sure that you've probably heard that Dave was just promoted to RADM and the position at Fallon's come available to be filled in one month."

"I heard something about it on the grapevine, sir." Animal replied, curious as to where this tidbit of gossip was going.

The CNO grinned even wider. "We are looking for a replacement - Someone who has a credible track-record and is good with stick and throttle; someone who would be able to step into the role of NSAWC commanding officer with relatively little training. Who has experience and flight-time rating on the F/A-18C."

Animal raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to insinuate something? With all due respect? Sir?" His tone was wry with unabashed humor.

The CNO laughed loudly as he said. "The insinuation is…oh, hell with it… If you want it, Tosh, the position is yours."

"Absolutely, sir!" Animal grinned widely. He had wanted to stay in the cockpit however he knew that this was probably the last hurrah for the flying part of his career and there were others just as capable as him who were able to take command of the Naval Strike Air Warfare Center. He could count at least twenty potential candidates just out of his own memory. So it was just sheer dumb luck that the CNO would pick him.

"So, how is your wife-to-be?" CNO asked.

"Meg is doing wonderfully. She's on track to be promoted to O-4 in two years. She's one of the top litigators at JAG HQ right now." Animal replied. "Of course, it may mean some time apart because she really has ensconced herself at JAG and I'd hate to see her do a lateral career move at this point in her career."

"Well…that's her decision. And the results that she's managed to produce will be an asset to any Region Legal Services Office. And it's very doubtful that a spousal co-location will have any effect on her career."

That wasn't really what Animal had heard but he wasn't about to debate the CNO on that point. Most lateral moves for spousal co-location usually involved some hit to the career. "I just hope the promotion board sees it that way, sir." That was all that Animal could really say on the matter.

"So, just so that we're clear." The CNO grinned. "That means that you're taking the position in one month."

"Does a fish swim? Sir?" Animal replied. "Absolutely. I would love to take that position, sir."

"Then it's finalized. Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Toshio Nakamura. Go collect your orders from BuPERS and get your shoulder boards changed on your service whites you're wearing today. As of now, you're out of uniform. You got the wrong rank on!" CNO chuckled rather evilly as he raised an eyebrow looking at Animal's uniform. For the record Animal had been promoted only one year ago to the day to the rank of O-6, however the CNO was looking for the best possible candidate and if he had to stretch a few rules to do it, he was going to. Hell be damned. As far as he was concerned and by Senate Armed Forces Committee nomination to the rank of rear admiral lower half; the position of Commander NSAWC was going to be filled based on career achievement and qualifications and as far as the Chief of Naval Operations was concerned, Animal fit the bill.

"YES! SIR!" Animal barked out, snapped to a position of attention, a mile-wide smile of joy on his face as the Chief of Naval Operations grinned at him.

_**JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA, 1830hrs.**_

"You're working late." Mac indicated as she poked her head in the door of Meg's office. Harm had already left for the day from the Pentagon as he had given Mac a call before he had left.

"Yep. Tosh said he was going to drop by." Meg looked rather distracted as she looked for a file that she had somehow misplaced. "He said he had something to tell me."

"Are you looking for the Beckett file. It's on the corner of your desk." Mac mentioned as she stepped into the room and noticed the file on the desk.

"Oh. Crap… Thanks!" Meg said sighing in relief. "I don't know where the hell my head has gone. Must be wedding plans." Mac laughed as she reached over and handed the file to Meg.

"Understandable." Mac replied. The sound of a door to the main office area caused a few heads to pop up in the bullpen, just like the game of "Whack-A-Mole".

Meg looked up to see Animal look over to see them and her eyes widened as she noted the gold encrusted shoulder boards that Animal was wearing. She got up from the desk as Animal approached. Mac locked up to the position of attention.

"Admiral!" she barked, her eyes straight ahead.

"Major… as you were." Animal grinned at Mac as she relaxed her posture of military bearing then at Meg "Hi, Meg…" he said shyly as he looked deep into his love's eyes.

"You got promoted?" Meg asked, her arms going around Animal's shoulders in an embrace.

"Yep. Got called into the CNO's office. Wasn't sure if they were going to give me rank or boot me out unceremoniously out of the service. That Bear incident could have been a career ender." Animal said nonchalantly.

Meg reached up, her eyes filling with pride and love, her hand caressing Animal's cheek as she leaned in to give Animal a kiss on the lips. A cough was heard and Animal and Meg split apart to see Mac back at the position of attention and a rather bemused AJ.

"I believe congratulations are in order." AJ grinned as he extended a hand to Animal. "Rear Admiral Nakamura."

"Thank you, sir. Still only one star, sir." Animal replied.

"The second one will come…" AJ assured him. "Your fiancée was mentioning something about spousal co-location today. She noticed that the position of CO Naval Strike Air Warfare Center came open today."

"Yes, sir. That's something that both Lieutenant Austin and I will have to discuss." Animal stated as he looked over at Meg who looked rather apprehensive. He paused for a long moment. "The Chief of Naval Operations called me into his office today." He said as he searched his fiancée's eyes for any reaction to his statement. "That was one of the points of discussion today. He mentioned that it would have to be filled in a month. And that a few of the criteria were: someone who has a credible track-record and is good with stick and throttle; someone who would be able to step into the role of NSAWC commanding officer with relatively little training."

Meg looked at Animal raising her eyebrows. "So…" she practically knew that he was the selectee for the position of CO Naval Strike Air Warfare Center. Meg just wanted to hear Animal say it.

"In short…" Animal paused for a long moment; then admitted. "He wanted me to fill the role. So I accepted the position. But that will push up the timetable for the wedding." He searched Meg's face which he found to his surprise was full of joy for his assignment. He was surprised because accepting the position would cause her to have to transfer to Fallon with him which could have an adverse effect on her career. "Meg has such a solid career here that I hate to ask her to move with me."

"Don't even think it, buster." Meg said giving him a look. "Where you are is where I'm going to be. Sir." She looked over at AJ. "Now that it's been finalized, sir; could I please put a '_expedite'_ on the spousal co-location NAVPERS 1301/85?"

"I don't know how she does it, Admiral Nakamura." AJ stated. "She intuitively knew you had the position when it came open this afternoon. Lieutenant, I definitely will. Of course, it will be hard to lose a fine litigator like yourself. Lieutenant Austin."

"She's amazing." Animal agreed looking at Meg who beamed with pleasure at the love and support coming from her friends and her fiancé.

Mac reached over to Meg and embraced her. "We'll miss you here at JAG when your transfer comes through." She sniffed softly as her eyes filled. "I'm losing my close friend."

Meg looked at her "You have Harm. Mac." She smiled at Mac who shook her head.

"No…I do have Harm, but I lose the ability to confide in a friend with whom I can have time to have girl-talk. It really isn't the same with Harriet. We're too far apart in rank." Mac admitted softly. "And it's been barely a few years since we first met. Damn it… Write, will you?" she said plaintively.

"I will…" Meg said embracing her friend again in return. AJ and Animal looked at each other as Animal sighed. Knowing that Meg made the decision to come with him was gratifying but it was heart-breaking to know that Meg would lose the close camaraderie of being able to be with friends in an office that was all she knew since she joined JAG.

"It's ok…" she said as if she heard his thoughts. "I'll be your wife…Tosh, hon, and that's what matters." She closed with him and slipped her arm through his arm, indulging in his closeness.

"I think you should spend some time with him and talk this over…" AJ grinned. "Call it a night tonight, Lieutenant, the cases can wait."

"Yes, sir." Meg said as she started gathering up her things.

Mac gave Animal a proper "Good night, sir" as she exited Meg's office.

Meg looked up, giving Animal a loving glance. "Let's go home. My love." She murmured softly, her voice husky with promise.

_**Harm's Apartment, North of Union Station, Washington DC, 1900hrs **_

Mac looked over at Harm whose jaw was hanging open. If it had hung open any farther his jaw would have made contact with the ground. "She's what?" he asked forcing Mac to repeat what she had already said to him.

"Meg asked for a spousal co-location application to be processed quickly so that Animal could take command of Naval Strike Air Warfare Center in Fallon when they get back from the honeymoon." Mac said to Harm who looked like the information was a little slow getting to his cranial central nervous system so that he could formulate a reply.

Harm looked back at her, the shock to his system making him speechless for a moment as he worked his mouth for a moment, but nothing came out. "She…she's asking for a transfer?" he said finally when he got his vocal cords to work properly. He paused for a long moment as Mac wondered if he was going to be in too much surprise to formulate any sort of intelligible conversation for the evening. "So where does that leave you?" he asked. "She's been a friend for two years now. How are you going to hold up now that you don't have someone to talk to." The words _spousal co-location_ shook Harm. It brought home the fact that Meg was _in love and marrying her fiancé_ and moving with him to Nevada, not to mention the fact that his friend Animal was now a rear admiral lower half and taking command of a Strike Air Warfare School. His friend had always been higher in rank than he had, but as of late, Animal seemed to be seeing the results of a career dedicated to the United States Navy and rising in rank at a rate that could only be attributed to the Medal. The Naval Strike Air Warfare Center was a prime command position and a leg up for those who aspired to higher rank. It was for those who were consummate warriors who also intended to pass along the knowledge that they knew.

"Well…" Mac paused, her voice tight. "I guess I'll just have to find someone to talk to…" she said. "But you're right, she is my friend. I will miss her. I'll miss the girl-talk." She admitted to Harm. "Sorry, Harm. I love you, but nothing beats having a female friend that you can talk girl-talk with. It's just not the same."

"Sorry about that." Harm said with a little relief. _Girl talk _always made him a little nervous. Mac gave him a hug regardless of that. Harm was very useful for other things though and she made that abundantly clear without words.

_**Animal and Meg's Apartment, Richmond, VA, 1930 hrs**_

"So, I guess we'll have to call a realtor and start putting our new home on the market." Sighed Meg as she looked over at Animal as they sat side by side on the couch. "…just when we'd gotten comfortable in this home of ours." She looked at the four corners of the dining-room and looked melancholic as the realization that there would be a big move involved. One of the things that most people hated was moving. And this move would be especially difficult as it involved a move from Virginia State to Nevada. Animal reached out and took her hand as Meg looked at him. "Oughta be glad that I love you." Meg said with a smirk. "Or I might be thinking twice about moving." She teased, a twinkle of humor in her eyes.

"Love you too, sweetheart" Animal grinned at her as she leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder and reached over an arm to embrace him. "So…you gonna be OK?" he asked, his eyes earnestly scanning his fiancée's face.

"As long as I have you." Meg admitted softly, looking up from her position leaning against his chest. Tilting her head up, she met Animal's lips that were descending on hers. They drank in the kiss for as long as possible. Her eyes turned smoky blue as she looked up at him, breathless. There wasn't much talking after that as they headed for the bedroom.

_**Animal and Meg's Apartment, Richmond, VA, (much later)**_

"So…" Meg purred softly as she looked over at Animal. "…are we planning on eating tonight? I don't know about you, but I'm hungry…" she said as she sat on top of him intimately joined; the feel of her bare skin against his arousing the living daylights out of him, the palms of her hands resting against his chest."…and I didn't plan on starving."

"Sure…what were you in the mood for?" Animal asked, his eyes twinkling in merriment as his double-entendre caused Meg to laugh.

"Think Chinese food will deliver tonight at this time?" Meg asked as she got up off Animal and headed over to the closet.

"Probably, but I think we'd better get dressed or the delivery person will get an eyeful." Animal teased her. She nodded in reply giving him an aroused grin appreciating what she saw as Animal got up out of the bed and wandered over to inspect the closet standing close to her.

"I agree." Meg replied equally teasing as she threw on a t-shirt (one of Animal's VF-41 squadron t-shirts) and shorts. "I enjoy knowing you all to myself and I don't intend to share…" she winked suggestively at him. After Animal got dressed in pretty much the same: t-shirt and shorts; Meg looked through a Chinese food takeout menu for some items. "I'm in the mood for some chicken chow mein and vegetables with black bean sauce."

"I'm gonna go with rice and char siu (which was Cantonese for BBQ pork). Guǎngdōng huà!" Animal said, exhausting his midget-sized knowledge of Cantonese with the term and phrase. Animal did eat Asian food on occasion, though he had been raised in upstate New York and usually picked Western food.

"wǒ xiāngxìn tā shì. [oh, I'm sure it is.]" Meg grinned as she spoke in Mandarin confusing the hell out of Animal; her eyes twinkling. In her role as a former computer specialist hacking enemy transmissions and programs in the Navy, she had cracked a Chinese code. In order to do that, she had to know both Cantonese and Mandarin. She laughed. The expression on Animal's face was endearingly comical in his confusion. "I just said. _I'm sure it is._" She said; her voice cheery as she reached over to caress Animal's cheek. "…in Mandarin."

"oh."

_**Animal and Meg's Apartment, Richmond, VA, (after dinner)**_

"Sweetie." Meg said softly as she looked over at Animal as they finished up their dishwashing together. "I can call in an appraiser and a realtor tomorrow to see what sort of asking price we should ask for."

Animal looked at her, silent for a long moment as he weighed his thoughts in his mind first before speaking. "I think an appraiser would be a good idea. At least then we can get a ballpark figure on what this place would be worth and maybe sell it quicker for less financial loss."

"So you want me to find a good realtor for us?" Meg looked at him. "It would be good to check out a few real estate agents before we decide on one. And we're going to have to find one when we're out in Fallon. Base housing just doesn't cut it for me. I want something with a bit more room than that." Animal nodded in affirmation of what Meg just said. She was right. Base housing sucked. They were usually small houses that had the bare minimum necessities; two bedrooms at the most and no amenities such as a backyard pool or much less a back yard. Animal knew it all too well as he'd been living in one for a number of years before joining his life to Meg's and finding a place of their own. Some married quarters were just an apartment building on base. And he knew that Meg was confident in her ability to find them a good realtor. In fact; Animal much rather would let her do that.

"You know, it seems like our moving has superseded what plans we've had for our wedding." Animal remarked.

"I know, it seems sudden, doesn't it?" Meg stated with a sigh. "And we're getting married in a week. I love that…" She leaned over as she dried a dish with the dishtowel, her shoulder leaning against his.

"Me too…" Animal agreed as he pondered what married life with Meg would be like for a long moment. After a moment he figured it would be pretty much like the life they had right now, except for one thing: they'd be officially husband and wife.

"I'll be answering to Lieutenant Nakamura, y'know." Meg grinned widely as she put the dish that she was holding in her hand in the dish strainer.

"Hmmm, Lieutenant married to a Rear Admiral (lower half)." Animal grinned back equally widely, his voice teasing as he rinsed off a glass.

"Well, for a Rear Admiral, you certainly don't have the age-related problems of one…I'm surprised" She shot back, her eyes alight with merriment.

Animal's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Uh…huh…" he said, his voice mock-peeved. "Well…after we finish these dishes…I'll show you…" he grinned, leering suggestively waggling his left eyebrow comically as Meg giggled.

Needless to say; there were still dishes in the sink the next morning.

_**JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA; 0700 hrs (2 days later)**_

Meg hurried to get to staff call. There were a few case matters that needed to be straightened out before they were able to get away from the office and enjoy the nuptial celebrations that would mark their joining together as husband and wife.

She opened the door to the staff-boardroom and entered. "Morning, sir." She stated, acknowledging the admiral's presence, as she selected a chair next to Mac.

"Morning; Lieutenant." The Admiral replied. When the rest of the officers had assembled in the boardroom, he continued "We have a case involving a Lieutenant Jacob Uhl on charges of conduct unbecoming an officer for fraternizing with an enlisted electronics technician third class. He's been taken into custody and is currently at the Navy Yard brig while his superiors are pressing charges of Article 133; Conduct unbecoming an officer and Article 92. citing the fact that Lieutenant Uhl failed to regard the orders of his superiors to terminate the relationship and continued to fraternize with the ET3 in question. Lieutenant Commander Rabb, you will prosecute, Major Mackenzie, you'll defend. Lieutenant Austin, no new cases. Your transfer and spousal co-location to NAS Fallon Staff Legal Services Office has been approved, I was just on the phone with BuPERS this morning filing your NAVPERS 1301/85. For all intents and purposes it has gone through. You will be transferring there in conjunction with your husband…" he paused melodramatically. "-to-be…at the same time." Wearing a big grin on his face he searched for Meg's reaction which was one of respectful amusement.

"Thank you, sir. And I just wished to say that it has been a pleasure serving with you and with the rest of the JAG staff, sir." Meg stated, as calmly as her swirling emotions would allow her. She was going to miss everyone here and that's what made leaving the office hard to do. As much as she would have liked just one more case, she knew that it would have taken up time that would go towards making sure the wedding went off with very few hitches and no wedding in the world had ever gone off without one monkey-wrench thrown in.

"Damn it…" Harm said, as the rest of the staff after receiving their assignments dispersed. "I'm not good with good-byes." He looked at Meg. "I'm going to miss you, Meg." He reached out his hands and Meg obliged him with an embrace; a warm but platonic one. "You keep Animal in check for me, will ya?"

"I will…as his wife, I'm sure that my words will carry more weight with him in the future." Meg's eyes twinkled in amusement. "At least though, you'll be at the wedding." She smacked him in the arm. "And don't say 'good-bye'. It's a 'see you later'. It's not like we're going to be falling off the face of the earth. We're just moving to Nevada. You and Mac can come visit."

Mac looked over at Meg too with tears in her eyes. "Meg. I know you're absolutely over the moon with getting married in a few days, but damn it…" she sniffled. "You'll be missed. OK…I'll admit it…I'll miss you. Like I said last night, write!"

"Yes, ma'am." Meg snapped to, but belying that military courtesy was a cheeky grin. "Will do, ma'am. Every week. ma'am."

"And make damned sure that it's not late." Mac grinned back at her, wiping the tears out of the corners of her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am."

The rest of the week leading up to the wedding went just as fast as this particular day went. All too soon, Friday arrived; RADM Chegwidden had kept a skeleton crew contingent at the JAG office and Friday was supposed to be the day that the wedding party headed to the chapel. Meg smiled to herself enjoying the fact that Saturday was going to be the wedding.

_**Animal and Meg's Apartment, Richmond, VA, 0930hrs**_

Indulging in a long shower that Friday morning, Meg exulted as the water ran down her body; sighing as she felt the feel of the massaging water from the showerhead massaging her shoulders wicking the tiredness out of them. Ducking her head back into the stream of water she felt the water seep into her hair soaking it. Grabbing the perfumed shampoo, she poured out a dollop of it and applied it to her hair lathering it up. Animal had gone already to get his dress whites from the dry-cleaner so she took the time to indulge in some self-pampering. It was lucky that he was or she wouldn't have managed to finish washing off without being interrupted for some extracurricular activity. Ducking her head back under the water, she rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, and then applied some conditioner to her hair. Of course the conditioner required about fifteen minutes to take effect so she lathered up the rest of her body and rinsed off. Finally she rinsed the conditioner out of her hair. She was dressed in a robe at the mirror of her dresser drying her hair with her hairdryer when Animal finally returned.

"Got your dress whites?" she asked.

"Yep." Animal responded as he held up the wire-hanger and plastic wrapped dress whites which he would transfer later to a garment bag. He walked over to the closet and hung the dress whites up for the time-being then turned to Meg as he watched her dry her damp hair.

"When is your hair appointment?" Animal said.

"After we hit Virginia Beach, but I have to get to the airport in about an hour. Mom's plane is going to be landing."

"Want me to come?" Animal asked; he looked apprehensive.

"Of course. I'm sure she'd like to see who I'm marrying preferably before she sees you all dressed up in dress whites at the altar." She grinned at Animal's discomfiture. "At least then she'll know you can clean up well." She teased. Animal nodded; grinning back at her smugly.

"But didn't I see her…back when you took me to Texas that one time…just after I came back from the…" he started to say.

"It's been several years, sweetheart." Meg retorted.

"oh."

_**Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, Washington DC, 1145hrs**_

Animal and Meg wandered through the concourse of the airport looking for the domestic arrivals terminal. "She's on American Airlines, Flight 372." Meg remarked casually as they looked for the TV board that Arrivals announcement. When they saw the board, Meg said. " 10 minutes out yet." She remarked. "It's going to be so good to see Mom again."

"Your brother coming?" Animal asked about Joe Austin, Meg's brother.

"Yes, he said that he was coming to the wedding. He wanted to see who tamed his tomboy sister." Meg grinned at Animal.

"You…tame?" Animal asked with an air of disbelief risking a straight-shot to the arm from a set of knuckles.

"oh, you're asking for it, mister." Meg huffed with a look of annoyance as Animal chuckled.

As they walked hand in hand to the Domestic Arrivals, Meg squeezed and massaged Animal's hand as she waited to hear the "Arrivals announcements". Evidently she was nervous. Eventually the announcement came "Flight 372 has landed and is arriving at Gate 17."

"There's the announcement." Animal said to his fiancée.

They waited for about ten minutes while they saw the steady stream of passengers coming through the arrival gate. And then it was tears and hugs of joy from Meg's mother and brother as Meg threw her arms around her taller brother who towered over Animal who was rather short (only 5'10"). Joe extended his hand to grasp the extended hand that Animal proffered.

"So you finally tamed my sister?" Joe grinned and then winced as Meg gave him a shot to the arm then looked over at Animal…

…and said. "Don't you dare answer that…" she growled.

Animal kept his trap zipped other than a "how you doing? Joe."

_**SpringHill Suites Marriott Virginia Beach Oceanfront, Virginia Beach, VA, 1800hrs**_

The drive was a long one from Richmond, Virginia almost two hours long. The first thing that Meg's mother did was rent a vehicle from the airport's car rental place and load their luggage into it. They had grabbed a bite to eat from a restaurant and brought it home to eat. Meg and Animal had loaded their own vehicle with their wedding clothes and luggage that they were taking with them on their honeymoon. Meg's brother and mother would take their airport rental from Meg and Animal's apartment (which was now on the real estate market) to Virginia Beach. Then Meg's brother would drive their vehicle home to Meg and Animal's apartment before his mother and he drove to the airport for their drive back to Texas.

A quick stop at the dress-makers allowed Meg to pick up her wedding dress which was brought out in a garment bag to prevent Animal from laying eyes on it until the wedding ceremony. Meg's mother kindly took it in her vehicle so Animal wouldn't get the temptation to open up the garment bag to see exactly what Meg would be wearing. Meg gave her fiancée a satisfied smirk as she beheld the disappointment in her husband-to-be's face. "It's bad luck to see your wife-to-be's wedding dress. Dearest." She winked at him.

"Oh, well…" Animal let out a long-suffering sigh. "I know you'll look gorgeous in it…I mean…not that you don't look gorgeous always. I mean…you're always gorgeous." He grinned knowing he'd stepped in it.

"Oh…good back-pedal." Meg said mockingly as she crinkled her eyes while laughing. She squeezed her fiancé's hand in affection as she looked into his eyes deeply as Animal paused at a red light waiting for the light to change. Animal chuckled softly barely audible to Meg as the light turned green and they headed out of Richmond, VA and onto I-64. "By the time we get back from NAS Oceana day after tomorrow, we'll be married." Meg said as she looked contemplatively out the window of the car at the scenery going past.

"Culmination of almost a year of planning, isn't it?" Animal returned as he guided their car around the curve expertly as the car turned south-east. She looked at him, her expression soft as she gazed at him guiding their car down the interstate: the ways his fingers played on the steering wheel as he guided them to their destination in Virginia Beach; the little deft movements of his fingers translated to the forward motion of their vehicle. He treated the vehicle like an extension of himself; as he did when he was behind the stick and throttle of an F-14A, B+ or D Tomcat. When he had a machine at his fingertips, he was always in control. One had to be; one mistake and others or he could die.

As they approached the interchange for US 360, Animal watched for merging cars and adjusted speed to allow cars to enter the interstate. Driving the I-64 all the way to Virginia Beach was going to be a long 2 hr drive. Meg and Animal were quiet for most of the way contemplating how the next two days were going to change their life forever yet in some respects, their life wouldn't be much different from what it was now.

The wedding rehearsal dinner was to be scheduled for 2100 hrs offering them just enough time to check into the hotel and head for the rehearsal location at the chapel in Oceana Naval Air Station. The rehearsal and dinner were just for the active participants actually involved in the ceremony part of the wedding. That meant that the majority of those who were invited as guests didn't have to be there. Admiral AJ Chegwidden was giving Meg away in proxy to her late father but also because AJ had been like a father to Meg herself. Uncle Ollie was going to be there as well. It was almost 1950 hrs as they pulled up to the large white-grey building that was the Springhill Marriott, parked and checked in. They were greeted in the lobby of the building by a few of their friends as well as Meg's mother.

Animal looked around at the suite that the men were able to hang out in. Meg would be sharing a room with the rest of the women in the wedding party. All the better not to "see the wedding dress". Harm grinned as he clapped Animal on the shoulder. "Well, good luck." Harm said as Mac joined him; both of them in civilian clothes.

They were only there for a short time before they had to gather themselves together to head for the wedding rehearsal. It was about a fifteen minute drive. Assembling in the hotel lobby they all got into their cars and on the road down Pacific Avenue until it turned into General Booth Boulevard till they reached Oceana Boulevard and they turned right. It seemed like there was a convoy of cars driving down the road, each taking the same turn. It was a short drive on Oceana Blvd before they made the left turn onto Tomcat Boulevard which brought them to the entrance gate of Oceana Naval Air Station. Making their IDs ready, the military personnel showed them to the gate guard who ushered them through. Thank goodness, Animal had made plans a week prior to provide a list of guests so that he could get passes for each. The three admirals including Animal gave the gate guards a good solid glower that made them look at each other because they ended up spending a good half hour getting everything straightened out and to make it so that no one would be delayed the day of the ceremony which was the next day.

"And you are the groom?" the Marine Gunny looking back from Animal's military ID back at Animal repeatedly as if disbelieving that an admiral was going to get married. The implication from the look was that an admiral was too old to get married…and that did not sit well with Animal; not in the slightest.

"Yes, I am the groom…" Animal paused ominously as he aimed a jaundiced look at the Gunny and his visible name tape on his fatigues; who visibly shrank. "Gunnery Sergeant…POST!" he growled implying that the Gunnery Sergeant had the intelligence of his last name. Mac looked over at Harm with a chuckle. Evidently there _was_ a Gunnery Sergeant Post running around in the Marine Corps.

"Small world…" Mac said, her voice innocent, her expression anything but. "Any relation to you?" she smirked.

"shut up, Mac…" Harm grumbled.

Gunnery Sergeant Post after finding what was left of his brain asked. "And the bride?" Meg stepped up beside her husband-to-be and gave him an identical glower.

"Yes?" Meg's tone was the temperature of the North Atlantic in winter when she observed Gunnery Sergeant Post look over from Animal to Meg with a _you gotta be kidding me _look. "Is there a problem?" she asked; her tone just about as ominous as Animal's.

"No, Ma'am." He stuttered.

"Because if you find anything objectionable about my marrying this man; this decorated admiral who has served his country; then you will find your years in uniform numbered. Am I making myself clear?!" snapped Meg. Meg's brother Joe winced. He knew just how tough of a woman his sister had become.

"Yes, Ma'am; Crystal clear, Ma'am." The Gunny stated as he turned to stamp and place together passes for each and every single guest on the list. He knew that he would be working hard for the next few hours and he resolved that it was in the best interests of his career that he make sure that these fine officers were able to get to the rehearsal on time.

As they were being ushered through the gate, Harm stepped up to the Gunnery Sergeant who had to crane his neck up to look back at the 6 foot 4 inch Lieutenant Commander and growled, "Gunnery Sergeant Post, You are damned lucky I am not writing you up on an Article 89. Not only is Lieutenant Austin a "bride-to-be" of a well-respected friend of mine; a highly decorated officer. But she is also a United States Navy Judge Advocate General officer. Consider yourself warned, Gunny! Adjust your attitude or your career will go down the shitter head first." Harm had quietly watched the whole thing in the guard house and he was not amused in the slightest. Not only had the Gunny disrespected the decorated admiral, he was treading the waters of a court-martial for disrespecting a superior officer – both of them.

"Sir, YES SIR!"

As they drove up to the chapel along D Avenue, Meg grumbled. "The nerve of that Gunny. To think for a second that I shouldn't be marrying you." Animal pretended to look puzzled. "Don't tell me you didn't get the feeling from that man; the _why are you marrying that guy_ look; the prejudice that you had to endure throughout your career. Isn't receiving the Medal of Honor enough to quell that?"

"Meg…" Animal said shaking his head. "It will always be like this. And even more so, now that you will be carrying my name." He paused for a long moment. "My parents had to put up with this, god rest their souls; my grandmother and grandfather as well as my father and mother had to go through the internment during WWII. So, Meg, my love, this is small potatoes. The one thing that you have to understand, Meg, is that anybody who comes face to face with me who has never spent time with me, who doesn't know me will always see my color first and that has been and always will be a fact of life." He paused and took her hands. "The only thing that matters, my sweet Meg, is how you see me."

"…and I will always see you as a dashing, young…wonderfully loving husband." Meg grinned back at him, her dark mood evaporating as she leaned over to brush her lips across Animal's.

"…let's see you say that after you hear me snore." Animal quipped. "And I'm not so young any more…"

Meg arched an eyebrow and intoned solemnly though the light and mischief in her eyes were visible. "I already have and to me, your age doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that you're an admiral that's hit 40 years old. I'm 30 years old; I'm old enough to know what I want in a husband and believe me when I tell you that you fit every single qualification."

"oh…every single qualification…" Animal's response was unrepentantly lascivious.

"every single one and you'll definitely find out that on our wedding night." Meg grinned back at him.

_**Chapel**__** Of **__**Good Sheperd**__**, NAS Oceana, Virginia Beach, VA 2105hrs**_

"Good evening." Commander Matthew Goode, Command Chaplain, NAS Oceana, smiled at the two officers in civilian clothing. "Lieutenant Austin, Rear Admiral Nakamura, sir. It is a pleasure to meet the both of you and your distinguished guests as well."

"Commander." Animal replied as Meg added…

"Sir."

"I see the both of you are looking forward to your matrimonial ceremony." Commander Goode observed as he saw Meg place her hand in Animal's.

"We are." Meg replied. "Sir. It's been on our minds all through today as we were driving up." She looked up at Commander Goode who smiled beatifically at the couple as they held hands, their fingers caressing each other's.

"We will run through the parts of the ceremony tonight and allow you to determine where the certain cues should come in for the various participants in this wedding ceremony" Commander Goode stated the protocol for the evening. The base photographer was also there as the official _wedding photographer_and took whatever photos he could. He would also be paid for his services for this night and the next day's ceremony.

And with that the whole evening progressed as the rehearsal went on for at least the better part of an hour and a half. The organist and the small string quartet were also there for that time and would be paid as per the requirement for both the rehearsal as well as the actual ceremony. When the rehearsal ended, Animal and Meg took the participants in the rehearsal out to dinner at Rockefellars. The dinner was superb. Animal tried the crab cakes and was in absolute awe of their delicious flavor. Animal put a crab cake on the end of a fork and fed one to Meg who swore up and down that she should have had crab cake too. "Oh…you bet we're coming back here." Meg stated emphatically as she looked over at Animal with intent that it was orders. Didn't matter if Animal was an admiral, when they were in civvies, she was in command. "Before we leave for our honeymoon!" she finished giving him his marching orders for post-wedding.

Animal grinned back at Meg. "Of course, we'll come back here; providing that we have enough time to catch our flight to our honeymoon destination." Meg gave him a look as if to say. _You'd better make sure we have enough time, buster!_ Mac and Harm looked at each other trying to keep from laughing.

_**SpringHill Suites Marriott Virginia Beach Oceanfront, Virginia Beach, VA, 0800hrs**_

Animal woke up blearily on the morning of his wedding day. Disoriented and tired seemed to be the order of the day as he headed from his lonely hotel room to the shower. Tradition dictated that on the night before the wedding, Meg and he were to sleep apart. Meg chose to spend that evening with her mother and brother. Animal's parents were long since deceased and he was all by himself with the exception of his friend Commander Jim "Scooter" Willis who was his best man. Some of the Aces were making the trip to his wedding to round out the wedding party and to form (along with Harm) the sword arch after Meg and Animal finished the vows.

Animal decided after looking out at the Atlantic Ocean from his top floor suite; damned expensive on a captain's salary (even though he was allowed to be a rear admiral lower half, he was still drawing the pay of an O-6 as this was a frocked position at least until the Senate Armed Forces Committee approved it); that he would take a shower.

A knock on the door after Animal toweled off and was dressing prompted him to go open the door. It was his former RIO. Jim Willis grinned at him from his 6'4" height. Animal thought to himself that it was fitting to have both Jim and Harm at the front of the sword arch, the twin towers, so he thought. Jim and Animal had been through a lot together; Desert Storm, 3 West Pac Cruises; 3 Med Cruises and a whole shitload of brush fire wars. And Jim "Scooter" Willis was always faithfully in his backseat. And most crews didn't stay that long together as an F-14 crew. Naval Flight Officers were shunted to different squadrons than their aviators and the whole process of getting to know one another and breaking in the crews started all over again practically every cruise so Animal considered himself damned lucky to be crewed with Scooter for the duration of their naval career together.

"Breakfast is in 0900 hrs. shipmate." Scooter intoned as Animal craned his neck up to look at him. Scooter was dressed in t-shirt and jeans with his Ray-Bans curled in the neck of his t-shirt a la Tom Cruise style in Top Gun. Animal grinned at him.

"Will be down, Scoot. I'll see you there as soon as I'm finished getting dressed."

"Ceremony at 1700?" Scooter asked.

"Yep. Be there, pal. You're part of the sword arch." Animal reminded him as Scooter laughed, throwing him a thumbs up.

"You betcha!" he grinned. "I'm gonna go grab some chow. I'm starved."

"When aren't you? Buddy." Animal said, slightly envious of the fact that Scooter could eat like a starving man and not have it show on his waist. His metabolism was incredible to behold. Part of that had to do with the fact that Scooter liked to body build and when his arms and legs weren't encased in the Nomex CWU-27/P flight suit that all Naval Aviators and Flight Officers wore for naval flight ops, they bulged in a white t-shirt. That came in handy during bar fights where all Scooter had to do was flex one bicep and Marines, SEALs and Army Rangers turned sheet white. The black belt in tae kwon do helped. It also helped in getting women, as Scooter looked a heck of a lot like a certain Peter Koch (with the exception of height) who played for the Cincinnati Bengals, the Kansas City Chiefs and the Raiders.

"OK…catch ya later." Scooter grinned back at him as he turned to go down the hallway to the hotel restaurant.

_**SpringHill Suites Marriott Virginia Beach Oceanfront, Virginia Beach, VA, 0930hrs**_

While Animal, Scooter, Harm and the rest of the male members of the wedding party were downstairs having a leisurely breakfast, the female members of the wedding party were busy getting ready for the event having to run from location to location in a mad rush trying to get hair and makeup done for the big day.

Meg looked over at her mother who softly said. "Meg, how I wish that Dad could have been here to see you get married."

Meg sniffled a bit as she said, her voice husky with emotion. "I wish he was too…Mom."

The morning was a blur of events as the hair and make up sessions concluded around 1130hrs just in time for a quick lunch and a few touchups. Then it was off to a park to get a few pre-wedding photos of the bridal party. While the groom's party was shuttled off to the boardwalk beside the hotel to get a few photos thereby keeping the two parties separated until time for the ceremony. It was interesting to see how many heads swiveled around to see the men in their dress whites; especially three admirals, RADM AJ Chegwidden VADM James Pointer and RDML Toshio Nakamura who stood together as they had their picture taken while the rest of the officers with less seniority stood off to the side. Most civilians had never seen so many gold thread encrusted shoulder boards in their lives and probably never would again.

All too soon 1300hrs rolled around and the wedding party headed into their separate vehicles along with a rented limousine for the bridal party and headed in what appeared to most bystanders as an unending convoy.

_**Oceana Gate Guardhouse, NAS Oceana, Tomcat Boulevard, 1330 hrs. **_

Harm noted with wry satisfaction that the gate guards were very efficient and respectful in their dealings with the wedding guests this morning. Evidently the admonition to Gunnery Sergeant Post had been very efficient in dealing with that problem. This time the wedding party was able to get through with little problem. The men were let through first and each military member of the wedding party did a once over to check to make sure that their uniforms were milspec inspection ready as this was a military wedding and they were to be on display to civilians. VADM Pointer got out first, RADM Chegwidden exited second and Animal last as the junior flag officer out of the wedding party's second limousine.

They entered the chapel before the bridal party came through so that the groom couldn't see the wedding dress. Animal looked over at Harm and Scooter. "Well…here goes."

"You'll be fine." Harm replied. His thoughts still churning on the fact that within two hours Meg would be married and Animal and Meg would be on their way to a honeymoon. The time that elapsed from the time they arrived at Oceana's Chapel of the Good Shepherd and the start of the ceremony was spent in idle chitchat while Animal tried to calm his nerves.

"Animal, you're shaking like a leaf." Scooter kidded him patting him on the shoulder.

"First time, y'know." Animal retorted. "Never done this marriage thing before."

"Only time…" Harm interjected grinning. "I know you and Meg are going to stay together. I've never seen a couple so intertwined and enthralled with each other. Shipmate."

"I'm a lucky man, Harm. Never realized it back in Yokosuka but, I gotta admit that it was fated." He looked at his hands. The left ring finger bare would soon be adorned by a wedding ring. Meg and Animal had both decided that it wouldn't be fair for one person to wear a ring and not the other so they found his and hers wedding rings. "Scooter, buddy, you have the rings?"

Scooter patted himself down jokingly with a comedic look of horror causing a brief moment of alarm to run through Animal. "Yep…got 'em." Scooter said as he patted his pants pocket where he had placed the rings.

"Oh…shit… you are so damned lucky." Animal snickered at Scooter's joke pointing at Scooter with arched eyebrows.

Animal looked at the clock and saw that the time was almost 1435hrs. Commander Chaplain Goode came up to the platform as the wedding guests filed in. There was a small group of civilians as well as military officers and a few Marines. Mac was dressed in a bridesmaids dress; electric blue as were several other friends of Meg's from the JAG office, Harriet and Carolyn Imes. Animal turned to Bud who was also up at the podium. "Was it just as crazy at YOUR wedding?" Animal asked Bud who had gotten married about 2 months earlier.

"No, sir. Crazier. We all got arrested." Bud said grinning. "Bar fight, sir."

Mac interjected from the bridesmaid's side as she walked over. "Yes…and he means _everyone_ at the bachelor party." Harm raised his hand to his forehead shaking his head.

"Well, ma'am." Lieutenant JG Bud Roberts said. "That wasn't entirely correct…sir." He turned to Animal who had his eyebrows raised. "I was punched in the face, sir…" he paused a long moment. "by a stripper." He admitted.

"oh".

They were interrupted from their idle chit-chat by a ceremonial flourish from the musicians from the corner of the chapel. That intro drew their attention to the chapel entrance way where Admiral AJ Chegwidden stood arm in arm with Lieutenant Meg Austin. Animal's jaw almost dropped to the floor. Her dress was flowing ethereal white and gorgeous surrounded by the open door of the chapel to let in some natural light. Largo-allegro II from Archangelo Corelli's Concerti Grossi Op. 6, Number 1 in D major essayed from the string quartet and filled the chapel as AJ and Meg started their slow walk down the aisle. Meg looked up at AJ and smiled softly as he whispered. "Congratulations, Meg."

"thank you, sir." She whispered softly as they approached the platform then AJ helped her up to the platform.

AJ turned to Animal and grinned at him. "Treat her well…Admiral." AJ stated firmly before releasing Meg's hands to him.

Chaplain Goode raised his hands in front of him open palms and stated solemnly. "Dear friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Rear Admiral Lower Half Toshio Nakamura and Lieutenant Megan Austin in marriage. Through their time together, they have come to realize that their personal dreams, hopes, and goals are more attainable and more meaningful through the combined effort and mutual support provided in love, commitment, and family; and so they have decided to live together as husband and wife." Meg looked deeply into Animal's eyes as he returned the gaze lost in each other, blocking out those around them focusing on each other's presence.

Mac looked over at Harm and smiled. There was nothing like a wedding to bring out the romance.

Chaplain Goode saw that Meg and Animal were pretty much focused on each other and he stated softly but clearly "True marriage begins well before the wedding day, and the efforts of marriage continue well beyond the ceremony's end. A brief moment in time and the stroke of the pen are all that is required to create the legal bond of marriage, but it takes a lifetime of love, commitment, and compromise to make marriage durable and everlasting. Today you declare your commitment to each other before family and friends, your yesterdays were the path to this moment, and your journey to a future of togetherness becomes a little clearer with each new day." He paused and went on. "Love should have no other desire but to fulfill itself. But if your love and needs must have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy; To return home at eventide with gratitude; Then to sleep with a vision of the beloved in your heart and a song of love on your lips."

Harm gazed at Meg standing looking up at Animal with a loving expression of joy and Harm realized that Meg was Animal's finally and truthfully at that very moment. But surprisingly he felt no jealousy as the love of his life was standing beside Meg and that woman was Sarah Mackenzie who peered at him through around the backs of the wedding couple and winked at him mouthing soundlessly to him. "I love you." That brought a warm feeling to Harm's soul.

"May you always need one another, not to fill an emptiness, but to help each other know your fullness. May you want one another, but not out of lack. May you embrace one another, but not encircle one another. May you succeed in all important ways with each other, and not fail in the little graces. May you have happiness, and may you find it in making one another happy. May you have love, and may you find it in loving one another." Chaplain Goode went on. "The time has come to forget all the stress of planning this day and simply enjoy your friends and family who have gathered to spend this day with you. This group of loved ones will, likely, never be together in the same place again. Through quiet reflection and nostalgia, think about how each person has touched your life and why they are here with you today. Now in front of family, friends and loved ones; recite the vows that you have written to one another and let the promise of the love that you share ring out amongst those who have gathered here today to witness your love for each other."

"I, Toshio Nakamura, take you, Megan Austin to be my lawful wedded wife, my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward for as long as we both shall live. From the time that we first met in Yokosuka, you have been my conscience, my confidante and my one true love and for that I am truly grateful that you were there for me." Animal stated softly as he gazed into Meg's eyes as he saw one small tear of joy escape the corner of her eye as he reached up to brush it softly away.

Meg softly and clearly stated as she gripped Animal's hands "I, Megan Austin, take you, Toshio Nakamura, to be my lawful wedded husband, my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward for as long as we both shall live. There aren't words to express my love and joy when you admitted after your award ceremony that you wished the same that I did. Your love for me was all that I needed to fill an empty place in my heart that I didn't know I had. This is everything that I have dreamed and have ever wanted and you are all that I need to feel whole." She gazed into his eyes with her own showing with feeling everything that she had expressed in words.

Chaplain Goode gazed benevolently at the two lovebirds and stated clearly. "You may now exchange rings as a symbol of your vows."

Animal turned to Scooter who reached into his pocket to pull out the rings that he had held with him protecting them with his own life. He passed them to Animal who took the ring that he was going to place on Meg's finger. As Meg extended her hand to Animal and he grasped her hand softly and tenderly he intoned: "With this ring, I thee wed. With my body, I thee worship. With my heart, I thee cherish. Would all that I am, I give unto you. Would all that I have, I share with you. From this day until forever done." With that vow he slipped the ring on her finger.

Meg took the ring that she was going to place on Animal's finger from Scooter and took Animal's hand. "With this ring, I thee wed. With my body, I thee worship. With my heart, I thee cherish. Would all that I am, I give unto you. Would all that I have, I share with you. From this day until forever done." She intoned softly as she sniffled. She slipped the ring on Animal's finger.

"By the power invested in me by the Commonwealth of Virginia, I now pronounce you husband and wife." Chaplain Matthew Goode smiled. "You may now kiss the bride."

Leaning her head up, Meg whispered softly and sweetly "Make it good, sailor."

"Oh…always." Grinned Animal as he gathered Meg into his arms and laid his lips on hers softly, sweetly and passionately. A chorus of wolf whistles broke out in the chapel as Meg and Animal kept up that kiss for at least a good long minute…and a half. When they broke apart for lack of oxygen; Meg grinned up at Animal and whispered. "Wow!"

The chaplain grinned and said. "Friends and Family, I pronounce for the first time, Mr and Mrs. Rear-Admiral Toshio Nakamura and Lieutenant Meg Austin-Nakamura." The signing of the registry was a brief formality as was the lighting of the unity candle. "On this day you make a new light together, symbolizing the two becoming one. May you also continue to recognize that separateness from which your relationship has sprung. May the lights of your own special lives continue to feed the new flame of love which will fuel your future together - through all its hopes and disappointments, its successes and failures, its pleasures and its pains, its joys and its sorrows - a future filled with the warmth and love of the flame you share today."

The rest of the wedding party including Harm and Scooter made ready for the ceremonial sword arch.

Harm grinned as he arranged the sword arch party in the order. Scooter was the best man, but Harm was the sword arch party commander. He made sure that he was on the side that Meg was going to go down purposely while Scooter matched him on the opposite side. Six other Black Aces were there as the rest of Animal's sword arch party.

As the guests assembled in the courtyard of the chapel to watch the customary sword arch ceremony. Harm and Scooter moved to the head of the sword arch party and whispered the command "Forward March" and as one the eight members of the sword arch party moved forward amidst gasps of awe and the precision marching. It was a slow march to the step of the Chapel of the Good Shepherd. Harm raised his voice as they came to a stop; at the top of the stairs, the other at the foot two stairs down spaced far enough apart that a couple could walk in between them. There were only two stairs so it was very simple to set up. "Mark Time…Officers Halt…Center Face!" At that command all officers turned towards each other. "Officers…DRAW SWORDS!" In one motion, the swords were drawn flourished blades out at a 45 degree angle upwards, hilt brought back to nose level and then drawn back to the sword carry position.

Harm said loudly. "Presenting for the first time in public; Rear Admiral Toshio Nakamura and Mrs. Lieutenant Meg Austin-Nakamura!" Keeping a straight face was hard as he was part of the sword arch and had to but he wanted to crack a big grin at Animal's former RIO across the way. "Present…Swords" At that command the officers instantly raised their swords and crossed their blades forming the Arch of Steel. "blades to the wind" was spoken softly enough that the public couldn't hear and the blades counterclockwise or clockwise rotated depending on which side of the sword arch the officers were standing in. As Animal and Meg stepped out to walk towards the first set of swords. His former VF-41 Black Aces squadron mates dropped their swords to block their path. "Price of a pass is a kiss, sir." The officer stated formally. Meg smiled at Animal as they both leaned into each other and kissed for the crowd. The officers raised their swords and let them pass amidst laughter coming from the crowd who had never seen this before. As Animal and Meg moved to the second set of swords of the sword-arch, they too dropped their swords. "Price of a pass is a kiss, sir…" was repeated. Again Meg and Animal complied, leaning into each other and kissing amidst cheers and wolf whistles from those not involved in the sword arch party. As the couple approached the third set of crossed swords they knew what was coming and paused as the officers lowered their swords. For a third time the "price of a pass is a kiss, sir" was stated and again Meg and Animal complied. Animal pretty much knew what the jig was when Harm and Scooter looked at each other with evil grins. Meg was on the right hand side on Animal's arm and Harm was on that side too. Scooter was on the other. As Animal and Meg approached both Harm and Scooter dropped their swords. "Price of a pass is a kiss, sir!" Harm stated clearly. Animal and Meg kissed passionately – Animal dipping Meg to choruses of cheers. "You may pass, sir." Harm stated and as Meg walked past arm in arm with Animal, Harm chose the opportunity to smack Meg on the butt with the flat of his navy officer's sword eliciting a yelp of surprise.

"Welcome to the Navy… Meg." He smirked playfully. Meg smiled but gave him a look as if to notify him that he was going to pay for that one. The chaplain and musicians were paid by Scooter who took care of all the details out of the wedding account that Animal had set up and the photographer got into his car to head back to the hotel to cover the reception.

It was a gala reception back at the hotel when they arrived. Food and drinks were in plenty of abundance. Meg and Animal would spend their night here in the honeymoon suite and then fly out first thing in the morning to their honeymoon destination.

Of course there was country music which was stuff that Meg liked and there was a few classical music pieces thrown in there, but most of it was good ol' rock n' roll that you would find at late 70s to early 80s high-school prom. Meg was born in late 1968 so she was still a baby at the time of the moon landing. Animal on the other hand was born in 1958 so he had a distinct recollection of the moon-landing. The sun was starting its downwards path on the opposite side of the building as both Animal and Meg gazed out over the ocean and then turned around one hundred and eighty degrees to watch the sun.

The reception was filled with camaraderie and laughter and Meg and Animal stayed for the majority of the evening to talk with friends. But eventually Meg looked over at Animal and said. "Honey? I'm tired. Let's head for bed." The look in her eyes said anything but sleep and Animal agreed with her. They made their way through a receiving line of friends and family well-wishers and made good their escape.

Harm and Mac watched as Animal and Meg escaped the reception and Harm turned to Mac and smiled. "Well…that's that. So…what do you say we take a walk along the boardwalk? Mac." Harm asked, his familiar warm grin making Mac feel a warmth flood through her from the top of her head to her toes.

"Seeing Meg's wedding was…there's just something…y'know…that makes me wish I had the same thing." Mac said as they both ambled down the boardwalk looking out at the setting sun. "You think we'll ever have that." She asked softly hoping that Harm would answer.

"I don't know. Mac, but I'd like to think so." Harm gave his answer as he casually looked at the gentle sea swell that swept in and wetted the sand on the beach. "I'd like it to be so." Mac stepped in front of him and Harm paused for a long moment looking at her, his eyes tracing the lines of her face and he reached up to cup her chin as he tilted her head up and their lips met.

_**SpringHill Suites Marriott Virginia Beach Oceanfront, Virginia Beach, VA, 0700hrs**_

Animal groaned audibly as he opened one bleary eye looking at the clock. "Who said that thing could go off?" he groused audibly. He felt a weight on top of his body and looked over to find Meg half on, half off him, curled around him naked using him like a security blanket. Oh, what a glorious ache.

"Probably because you set it for 0700hrs, sweetheart." Meg had one eye open peering at him with an amused expression, the other eye still shut. "Told you that you'd find out on our wedding night." She smirked. "Did I wear the poor sailor out?"

Animal arched one of his eyebrows. "Oh, but it was an absolutely terrific wearing out." He grinned at her as she smiled back at him unrepentantly.

"So, we going to Rockefellars again before we head for the airport?" Meg said. "We'd better get a shower and get dressed."

Animal nodded as they headed for the shower. Surprisingly they actually got some washing done.

After getting dressed, packing for the honeymoon, handing the car-keys over to Joe and Meg's Mom then heading for the taxi that would take them to Rockefellars which would pick them up after an hour and a half to go to the airport; they were all set to go on the honeymoon that they had planned for what seemed like a long time. After a pleasant brunch at Rockefellars, they headed for the taxi to take them to Norfolk International Airport (ORF).

"Being married doesn't seem a whole lot different. But it still feels pretty darned special." Animal grinned.

"You bet." Meg agreed looking at her wedding ring on her hand. "…and yes it's pretty darned special." She turned to lean against her husband. Their first flight was the ORF-DCA run on what was US Airways Express then the next would be from DCA-SEA via Alaska Airways. Of course, Animal had his camera with him so that he could take lots of pictures of Meg and himself as well as the scenery. He looked like a typical Asian tourist, Nikon camera hanging off his neck.

When they got to the check-in counter the ticket attendant looked at them "Ma'am, do you have some ID?" Her eyes passed from Meg to Animal then back to Meg again as if determining if they were together.

"Yes, I do." Meg showed them her military ID which she made the effort to change over just before she headed off for leave in time for the wedding. The ticket counter attendant paid particular attention to the wedding ring on her finger because Meg made absolutely certain to pass the ID over with her left hand. It read Lieutenant Meg Austin-Nakamura, USN. Animal handed his over which said. "Rear Admiral (lh) Toshio Nakamura, USN. The attendant looked over it, eyes raised wide open and nodded. They must have passed muster because she went on to checking their check-in luggage and slapping tags on the handle. They knew that they would have to pay extra for extra check-in luggage so they had packed as lightly as they could to pack more things in a smaller piece of luggage. That way they didn't have to worry about running out of clothes where they were going.

"On to Seattle…then to Hawaii." Animal grinned at Meg who broke out in a gigantic grin.

"Oh…I'm going to love this…" she glowed. "First time there without it being for work."

_**Four Weeks Later, NAS Fallon, Fallon, NV**_

"Lieutenant Austin-Nakamura…or can I just call you Lieutenant Nakamura?" Captain Maria Albanesi, USN JAG stated as she looked over at Meg. "Is it just chance that you have the same last name as the NSAWC commander?"

"No, ma'am. He's my husband, ma'am."

"Ah…co-location orders." She said perusing the paper in Meg's file. "Very well. I'm sure you've been warned about fraternization and the last commanding officer being the Judge Advocate General of the United States Navy is aware of the relationship and chose to approve it under the auspices of the UCMJ. I'll continue that approval; after all far be it from me to overturn a decision of the Judge Advocate General."

"Thank you. Ma'am." Meg said, standing up straighter.

"Just don't make me regret it, Lieutenant. No funny business while on duty." She eyeballed the lieutenant sharply.

"Yes, ma'am!"

_**NSAWC Hangar, NAS Fallon, Fallon, NV**_

"Our new commanding officer in command of Naval Strike Air Weapons Center is one of the top naval aviators in the United States Navy. While under command of Vice Admiral James Pointer,our new Navy 2nd Fleet Commander, our new CO rescued a fallen NFO out of an E&E situation. When attacked by a company of North Koreans, he engaged them with suppression fire until the NFO could be helo-evac'd. Our commanding officer ordered the men to retreat and kept suppression fire up until the NFO was safely recovered aboard the Seahawk helo. Then he retreated under cover fire from the helo. For this action above and beyond the call of duty, he was awarded the Medal of Honor. On top of that he is a four-time MiG Killer. So he knows exactly what he is talking about. He is no cardboard hero. Gentlemen and you will pay him your full attention, gentlemen!" Animal's new XO, Captain Robert "Shroom" Davies stood at the front of the class. "Because you will learn something."

"Thank you, Captain Davies." Animal said as all eyes turned to the back of the lecture auditorium. He strode down the stairs leading to the podium. All eyes looked to him and eyes opened in wonder as the class sucked in the realization that Animal was Asian and military - Asian and United States Military to be more exact. Dressed in green nomex CWU-27/P flightsuit with a NSAWC patch on the right chest, his red and black Naval Aviator nametag on the left chest and the SFTI patch on the shoulder (the old Top Gun patch) and the intimidating one single star on each shoulder; he uttered one word as he looked out at his audience of flight-suit clad naval aviators "Gentlemen." He paused a dramatic moment to scan the room from one side to the other slowly taking each person and look at them individually before he spoke again. "This school is Strike Air Weapons oriented. This means that you will become a Strike Air Weapon when we are done with you. And you will take this information with you and you will become a teacher to your squadron-mates so that they too can become Strike Air Weapons when they are in the cockpit of their F/A-18 Hornet or F-14 Tomcat. When I went through Top Gun, during the late 80s right about the time that Tom Cruise and his buddies came through with their fancy schmancy Hollywood schlock, I was at NAS Miramar before we gave it back to the jarheads." There was a trickle of laughter that ran through the audience. "Now we're stuck out here in the desert with the toads, the lizards, the spiders and the coral snakes and rattlers. But we'll make the best of it. Because we're here to do one thing and one thing only…and no it ain't to bitch about the toads, the lizards, the spiders and the snakes. You're here to LEARN ONE SINGLE THING! That's to learn to be lethal flying killers. Each and every single one of you. Oswald Boelcke the father of the study of air combat stated quite clearly: He who has the height controls the battle. He who has the sun achieves surprise. He who gets in close shoots them down. At Top Gun we have built on these premises and we have added new tech to the equation. But no technology substitutes for a naval aviator who is swift, manoeuvrable, deadly and able to take the fight to the enemy whether out of Fox 3 range or in a knife fight in a phone booth. No missile from long distance will substitute for a naval aviator who can out manoeuvre an enemy aircraft and shoot it down. At Top Gun we don't deal in best case scenarios, we deal with what we are given. And sometimes what we're given is a gigantic shit sandwich and we gotta make the best of it and in order to do that we gotta be able to get out of eating it." He paused and looked around one more time as the entire class looked at each other and chuckled nervously as Animal stood there staring emotionlessly at them. Then he spoke again, "You are United States Navy Aviators and that means one thing. You are the meanest, nastiest sons of bitches on the face of the goddamned planet and any time you get into a one on one or even a one on seven you're there to do one thing and one thing only. And that's to KILL the other guy before he kills you. And that…" he paused for a long moment. "…is what we're here to teach you. Each Strike Fighter Tactics Instructor Course is nine weeks long. It will take that long for all that knowledge to be put to use so that you can teach it to others. It will take much longer for that knowledge to sink in. Let that be your task for the next nine weeks. Learn what these instructors teach you. Absorb it so that it becomes a part of you when you fly and fight. And teach it to others. That is what we expect of you. That is what we want you to do when you return to your squadrons. There are not enough weeks in a year for all US Naval aviators to come through this Power Projection course. There are not enough weeks in the year where we can go one on one to each of your squadrons to teach them everything that they need to know. That is why we select the best of the best from each of your squadrons and bring them here to Fallon to teach them what we know. You…" he raised his hand and pointed to the class; a selected class member in each exclamation "You…You and YOU: all of you are our force multipliers. You are the teachers who are there every single day one on one with the members of your squadron. And this is why you were selected. Because your commanding officers; each and every one of them, believe that you are that person that can help their squadron. And we at NSAWC are dedicated to molding each and every single one of you into that person. So listen to your teachers, learn the fighting techniques and tactics. For the next nine weeks, glean every bit of knowledge that you can from your instructors and pass on what you have learned. Good luck, gentlemen. In the arena of air combat: there are no points for second place." Animal left the podium and walked through the lecture auditorium to a burst of cheers.


	3. You're Pregnant

_**Fallon**** TACTS Range, NAS Fallon, NV, **_

Two F-18 Hornets, bedecked in blue-grey camouflage darted like flies, intertwining flight paths. The adversary Hornets were up on a familiarization flight. In one Hornet, the flight-gear bedecked helmeted aviator utilized the joystick to maneuver the Hornet into a kill position. It had been a while since the admiral had been checked out in the Hornet after spending most of his years in the cockpit in the F-14 Tomcat and he was itching for a good fight.

In the other, a young lieutenant commander marveled at the fact that the 'old man' still had it in him to give him a run for his money. Considering the body's lack of tolerance to G-load as the body aged, it was hard not to think that he would have a better advantage than the slightly-younger-than-most admiral in the other Hornet. Yanking the stick to the right hard, he managed to yo-yo out of the guns kill just as the 'old man' called it. Rolling his Hornet he found a blue grey blur high above him and a flash of sun glinting off canopy as the nose of the F-18 was visible to him for a brief second as a clear "guns…guns…guns…" was called. Resigned to the loss, Lieutenant Commander Derek "Tombstone" Graves sighed as he heard next the "Knock it off, knock it off, knock it off…" call.

"You got me, skipper." Tombstone commented wryly, smiling behind his MBU-20/P which supplied oxygen to his body.

"Didn't think I had it in me?" A mock peevish tone of voice permeated his earphones from his commanding officer. Tombstone chuckled at that. "Let's go home." The skipper's reply sounded into his earphones of his flight helmet as Tombstone formed up on the NSAWC CO's Hornet, acknowledging the thumbs-up of his commanding officer and pointing their noses for NAS Fallon. Later when the two Hornets were sitting idle on the tarmac after shutdown, he turned to the admiral and asked. "I thought I had the drop on you, sir. How'd you get out of that one?"

"Good ol' fashioned dirty barrel roll." Rear Admiral Toshio "Animal" Nakamura grinned at him. "Hang out all flaps, drop the gear and roll it. Wallows like a butter basted turkey that's eaten too good. Forces the opponent out front; but unless you have good control of your bird, I wouldn't recommend it."

"Well for all intents and purposes, sir. That was a hell of a move." Tombstone replied as he nodded his head, his mind still screaming disbelief over how fast the NSAWC CO had managed to reverse the situation on him.

Animal nodded his head at the aviator who looked kind of sore that he had gotten beat especially to an older man. Walking in from the resting birds; they went over the debrief as to what LCDR Graves could have done better. As a naval strike fighter tactics instructor Tombstone knew he was always learning and what Animal had accomplished up there in that Nevada sky that afternoon weighed on his mind that there were still things he had to learn. Animal flew fangs-out, no holds barred; not even for a safety margin. In war there wouldn't be a safety margin and Tombstone was quickly finding that out. The "Top Gun" motto had always been "Fight to fly, fly to fight, fight to win"; the other being "You fight like you train". And the commanding officer of NSAWC intended to keep that tradition going. Tombstone knew he'd have to get better if he was going to best the _old man_. And he sure as hell wasn't going to call him _old man_ to his face. "We have to be unorthodox if we're trying to beat the enemy." Animal said, his eyes unreadable behind his Ray-Ban aviator sunglasses as he looked back over the tarmac at the idle Hornets. "That's our job. We train our aviators to be unpredictable and they'll get home alive."

"Aye, sir." Tombstone acknowledged as he took in the panoramic view of the Fallon flight line.

"This afternoon we take up some F-16Cs and wring 'em out." Animal's grin was visible under his sunglasses as he turned to stride towards the squadron hangars. Between flying the F/A-18 and the F-16C; this posting was certainly not going to be boring and he was looking forward to every single minute of it. And needless to say, Animal was not going to admit that the "basted turkey" move was a last ditch desperation move by the old man; his pride prevented him from doing so. Tombstone was good…maybe just about as good as Animal. But that was only one trick in his vast bag of tricks.

_**JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA **_

Mac was looking at a file on her desk trying to look attentive to her work but her mind was miles away. It had been too quiet at headquarters in the past three months since Meg had transferred. She had not been in the office since the last day which was a few days prior to the wedding. Then she had packed up the house where she and Animal had lived at and moved clear across the country to Nevada. The office just seemed barren and empty since she had left and it was something that Mac felt intensely. The office emptiness seemed intensified now that Harm was over at the Pentagon so there really wasn't much of anyone to talk to. Bud was a junior officer and that relationship showed every time she tried to talk to him. He'd button up and act "Ma'am… yes ma'am…" when all she wanted was someone to talk to.

She went over regularly just to spend time with Harm; not telling him that she felt lonely as well; that it was her reason for going over. She chalked it up to not getting enough time with Harm and the physical interactions there were so good too. But she had to admit when she was alone that she was lonely for a friend to talk to; a female ear to bounce ideas off of. Mac always had trouble fitting in as a child and as an adult, making friends just wasn't her cup of tea. Besides, she had Harm and Meg as friends and with those two; the quartet of friends (when she included Animal in their friendship circle as Meg's fiancé now husband) she hadn't needed to go search out for new friends. This was a new and rather uncomfortable situation to be in.

She sighed as her mind refused to cooperate with the file in front of her. A knock on the door interrupted her reverie and she looked up to see Lieutenant jg Bud Roberts standing in front of her door. "Come in, Bud." Mac said turning her gaze back to the file. "What can I do for you?"

"Ma'am. Admiral Chegwidden asked me to give you these. Briefing on this in is in twenty minutes. He stated that he would like both you and Lieutenant Commander Mattoni in his office." He placed the three new files to her extended hand and then promptly exited the office.

"Hmmm, wonder what these are for?" Mac mused audibly as she looked warily at the new files that she had placed on her desk by the one that she had open. Curiosity finally got the better of her and she opened one of them. Emblazoned on the front was NAS Fallon and the case folder didn't look as though it was a standard JAG RLSO report. As she looked in further, the particulars of the case jumped out at her – a harassment case involving an AC3 (Air Traffic Controller 3rd Class) who allegedly made sexually charged innuendo at another AC3. This was going to warrant investigation and presumably discipline; the AC3 in question was in on enforced on-base leave while the matter was sorted out as the wronged AC3 had formally pressed harassment charges. The first folder contained the personnel dossier of the accused. The second folder contained the personnel information for the Air Traffic Controller 3rd who brought forward the charges and the third contained the evidence which she looked over. Looking over the file, she made some brief notes and then gathered the files together and headed into the admiral's sanctum.

As she approached the doorway to the area where LN2 Tiner sat as the admiral's legalman; nearly colliding with Alan Mattoni who grinned and ushered Mac forward, Tiner looked up and said briefly. "Admiral will see you now. Please go directly in, Ma'am."

_**Admiral Chegwidden's Office, JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA**_

"Morning." Chegwidden said curtly as the two officers walked in. "I see you both have the case that I asked Lieutenant JG Roberts to present to you handy. I need you to head to NAS Fallon and find out what happened here. You will be defending the sailor in question; one Air Traffic Controller Third Class Micky Duerr…" Mac nodded. The file was strictly confidential so the only two people who would know the particulars of this case were Lieutenant Commander Alan Mattoni and Major Mackenzie.

"Is Commander Mattoni prosecuting, sir?" Mac asked.

"Actually, RLSO San Diego mentioned that one of their officers in Fallon would be conducting the prosecution." At that AJ grinned. "A Lieutenant Nakamura, by the way." At that Mac could barely restrain a grin. So Meg had taken Animal's last name – evidently Meg thought traditionally.

_**Commanding Officer's Office, Region Legal Services Detachment, NAS Fallon, NV**_

Meg was standing at attention in the CO's office. Captain Albanesi said. "I know that your views are relatively traditional despite your progressive thinking. Do you feel that you can prosecute this case impartially?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Lieutenant Meg Nakamura snapped out. "It doesn't matter what the defendant's sexual orientation is, ma'am. I will prosecute based on the offenses committed and not on the orientation of the AC3 in question."

"But it does concern you. You feel the traditional roles are being threatened?" Captain Albanesi leaned forward looking at the tall Lieutenant.

"Ma'am, no matter what my viewpoint of the traditional roles, I will do my best to offer the court the benefit of the case facts and only the case facts. My personal view of traditional roles has no bearing on this case." Meg stated calmly. Tradition was big in Texas but as a lawyer, she knew to build her case on facts and not on personal opinion.

"Good, Lieutenant Nakamura." The CO nodded, seemingly satisfied with Meg's answer. Templing her fingers in front of her, Captain Albanesi declared dourly "Confidentially, I don't like this case. _**Don't ask; don't tell**_ did a number to the Navy. It makes us all have to work harder to prove ourselves in this Navy. Let me tell you something, Lieutenant. We're all rated on our ability to do the job, but admit it, the bar is set higher for those of us with the dual-X chromosome and those of us who behave like those with a Y chromosome make it tougher for those of us who don't."

Meg raised her eyebrows; but didn't say anything except nodding.

"Very well…" the CO continued briefly nodding her head. "I'll let you get to the nitty gritty of prosecuting this matter. Keep me informed."

"Yes, ma'am." Meg responded, coming to attention and smartly about-faced. As she reached the door, she heard her CO assert.

"…and Lieutenant, this case has a way of creating a major mess. Don't let it get messy."

"Aye, aye, ma'am." Meg turned to leave the office and shut the door behind her.

_**NSAWC Commanding Officer's Office, NAS Fallon, NV**_

_Author's note: Just found out that from 1997 thru 2013, the NSAWC position at NAS Fallon was a RADM (two-star) position. Since Animal is now plunked into this position of commanding NSAWC by the CNO, we had to find a way to resolve this issue. Oh dear! Yep, he's frocked as opposed to f***ed. _

"RDML Nakamura. You are aware that this is technically a two-star position. We just found that discrepancy in your orders." The Joint Chiefs of Staff chairman indicated. "But you're thoroughly ensconced in this position and you are extremely effective at it having graduated three Top Gun classes already, so it doesn't see fit to remove you from it and looking at your dossier, you're the best available, qualified to take over this position." Animal raised an eyebrow even though it wasn't able to be seen and remained silent as he felt that the admiral was still about to continue with his monologue. "So the JCS's solution is to make your O-7 position official and then frock you to an O-8. Your O-7 pay will commence with the next paycheck. Your orders have been faxed to your yeoman and get some two-stars from the base PX." Yep, it was their mistake and they had to correct it the most efficient way as possible without making a big stink about it.

"Aye, aye, sir."

"However when you are done with this assignment you will revert to a one star to await your official promotion, if your term of prerequisite in grade isn't complete yet and secondly if we can't find another two-star posting to place you into to await your requisite time in grade." The JCS chairman stated officially. "So, congratulations, Rear Admiral (upper half) Nakamura."

All Animal could stutter out was. "th-th-thank you, sir."

"Keep up the good work…that's all we ask. You've done a hell of a job there, Admiral, you're training America's front-line warfighters." The Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman's voice was warm. "Keep it up."

"Aye, aye, sir." The dial tone of the phone told Animal after a few minutes to hang up the phone. That was how stunned he was.

_**_**NSAWC Commanding Officer's Office, NAS Fallon, NV,**_ 2 hrs later**_

"Admiral?" a familiar voice was heard at the door. Looking up, he saw his wife; not 'his wife' on duty though, she was Lieutenant Nakamura.

"Lieutenant." Animal raised an enquiring look at Meg.

"Just wanted to let you know that the files have been sent to HQ, sir. I'm prosecuting." Meg said.

"That's fine, Lieutenant. I'm sure Captain Albanesi will keep me informed on the matter as I recommended it go to court-martial." He paused for a moment, breaking out of his official persona of NSAWC Commanding Officer and then looked at Meg. "I just received a call from the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. They found out that the posting that I'm in is currently a two-star position."

Meg's heart dropped. Surely they couldn't be turfing Tosh out of his position since he didn't meet the requirements of a two-star. He had graduated two Top Gun classes out since he had taken command and the third was about one week into their Power Projection course and all reports were that the command was under exceptional command. "So…" Meg started, her tone sounding rather disappointed. "Where do we get posted?"

Animal paused looking at Meg. "We don't. I just got told that my commission to RDML was confirmed by the Joint Chiefs and I start collecting O-7 pay next week; that's a significant boost in pay. And I got frocked as an O-8 for the duration of my command here which is to continue." He commented casually fingering his collar casually; all too casually in Meg's books, after nearly giving her a heart-attack. He chuckled inaudibly all the while knowing full well that Meg was going to pay him back after work for that. Meg looked distracted as she hadn't even noticed that his khaki uniform collars had two stars on them. When she had actually noticed the change in rank – the addition of the second collar star on each side, her eyebrows raised and she looked sharply at his collar rank insignia then affixed a glare at her husband who chuckled which did nothing except raise her ire at him. That he could chuckle at that was absolutely annoying.

"you…" Meg sputtered settling for giving him an unofficial glare. Thank goodness she was in his office with closed door. "…sir… are going to pay for that when you get home."

Animal grinned unrepentantly knowing full well that he had given Meg a heart attack. The problem with using a spousal co-location was that the spouse with new orders was separated from his or her partner until the other spouse had completed one year in their co-location posting. It was a part of the sacrifice that all military families paid to stay a part of the military. Some couples were apart more than they were together. "I'm sure I will, Lieutenant." Winking at her he grinned. "Dismissed, Lieutenant…"

"ooooh…that man!" she steamed as she left the office after she had tossed him a rather casual. "Aye, aye, sir!" He must have known that the way that he had broached the subject to her had worried her needlessly. And lately she didn't really need that worry. She was feeling rather tired as of late and she had seen a bit of spotting the last time she had gone to the washroom and she'd had a slight case of the cramps. It wasn't anything to be concerned about as far as she was concerned and had written it off as the start of her period though in comparison. She continued on her way back to the JAG RLSO detachment office at Fallon. Her usual coffee in the morning made her feel nauseous and the fatigue was strange so she substituted a cola instead to give her the added caffeine kick and to get rid of the queasiness.

'_Maybe I should go see the doctor_', Meg thought to herself. It was rather funny that she felt this way because normally she was all full of energy, but lately her hormones had been kind of out of whack and she seemed to be a bundle of emotions lately that churned through her. She shook her head of those thoughts and resolved to focus her attentions on the case that needed to be prosecuted. She smelt a whiff of JP-5…wafting through the air and her stomach did a gut-churn for a brief moment. She was smelling things more and certain odors such as jet propellant cause her stomach to roil. That pretty much did it. The first thing she did when she got back to the office was make an appointment with a doctor who replied that she had an appointment available first thing 3 days later.

_**Commanding Officer's Office; Region Legal Services Detachment, NAS Fallon, NV, 2 days later**_

"Lieutenant Nakamura. This is Lieutenant Commander Alan Mattoni and Major Sarah Mackenzie." Captain Albanesi introduced the much familiar duo to Meg who just grinned and extended her hand playing along with it. "These two are the defense for AC3 Duerr. "Commander Mattoni, Sarah Mackenzie, Lieutenant Megan Nakamura."

"Pleased to meet you, sir, ma'am." Meg stated resisting the urge to laugh. She was sure that AJ had purposely sent the two of them to Nevada to investigate the case.

Alan Mattoni's eyes danced in merriment as he stated clearly in gravelly tenor timbre. "I'm very pleased to meet you. Lieutenant."

"Good to meet you too, Lieutenant." Mac went along merrily, her eyes promising lots of teasing afterwards as she extended her hand in greeting to formally shake Meg's hand.

Captain Albanesi looked back and forth at her subordinate attorney and the two others from JAG HQ; finally it clicked. "Do you happen to know each other?" she asked.

"Ma'am, my last duty posting was JAG Headquarters." Meg replied, looking over at Captain Albanesi who wasn't looking too impressed at being left out of the gouge loop. "Yes, ma'am, I have worked before with these two fine officers."

"Well, I'm glad they have your absolute recommendation." Captain Maria Albanesi said dryly giving Meg a look as if to say _Don't let it happen again_. Meg got the message and didn't say anything to that remark. One didn't get far making the CO look foolish. "Next time please let me know if you've worked with someone before. That's why we have conflict of interest rules. Though I'm sure in this case you won't have that problem."

"No, ma'am."

_**Region Legal Services Detachment, NAS Fallon, NV, later that day**_

"So what crawled up her butt and died?" Mac asked once they were safely in Meg's office and the door was sealed.

"She's always an intensely focused commander and officer." Meg stated in defense of her commanding officer. Captain Maria Albanesi, USN, Judge Advocate General Corps; was abrasive in manner and some found that off-putting. But she stuck up for those who served under her command and she was loyal to a fault. Mac nodded. She had seen those types of officers before and frankly, she still wondered about how Commodore Boone was able to keep men and women under his command from jumping overboard and swimming back to dry land. Mac still thought Tom Boone was a class "A" sonofabitch after a case that they had to do where then-Captain Boone was involved.

"There's a difference between _intensely focused_ and _hard-ass_." Mac assured Meg as she looked at the file that she had pulled from her briefcase. Lieutenant Commander Alan Mattoni kept quiet as he donned an expression of slight amusement; he'd found that the JAG Detachment CO there was a bit tightly wound up.

"Lieutenant, so how are you acclimating to the new place?" LCDR Mattoni asked Meg who gave him a thumbs up.

"Oh…beautifully, sir. We found a decent place to move into and the admiral and I are making it into a nice home. The floors have to be redone, but that's something that'll happen when we have time. Probably during leave." Meg responded, the faraway look in her eyes giving up the information that she was enjoying being married and having a family home that she would be able to make to her specifications. "I guess we should get back to what we need to focus on; which is the Air Controlman 3rd Class Micky Duerr case." Meg suggested to the two senior officers. "I'll see if the admiral is willing to consent to a dinner out for the four of us where we can catch up on old times."

"Of course." Mac grinned. "Let's do that. Now about the case."

"Well, the Air Controlman 3rd was reprimanded in April for allegedly making lewd comments to Air Controlman 3rd Class April Nyhagen which resulted in a captain's mast where the AC3 was ordered to take sensitivity training." Mac stated reading off the file.

"What did the AC3 say that resulted in the captain's mast?" Alan asked.

"When AC3 Nyhagen complained to the commanding officer about the comments about her sexual orientation. AC3 Duerr proceeded to proclaim innocence and said to Nyhagen in private: 'Come on, April, you know what it's like to spend plenty of time on your knees'." Both women screwed up their faces in distaste at the blatantly evident connotation.

"I think we need to interview the defendant and the plaintiff and get both sides of the story before we can adequately defend the defendant" Alan stated as he looked over his copy of the file. "You will arrange some private time with the defendant so that we may interview?" he formally asked Meg who nodded.

"Yes, Commander, that can be arranged." She nodded as she looked over at Mac. "So you two are defending AC3 Duerr. Be aware that AC3 Nyhagen will be taking the stand to supply testimony."

"Understood." Mac and Alan stated as they looked at each other. This was not going to be a slam-dunk defense case, because the evidence against their client was overwhelming. The simple fact that the comments made by their client against the plaintiff was fact in evidence and that it was stated in the view and earshot of several witnesses that Meg had already assembled would make their case that much tougher.

"Now, I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow, so I'll get my co-counsel to arrange the interview time with your defendant, now my plaintiff will have counsel present - my co-counsel." Meg replied sweetly, however all three knew that battle lines had been drawn. Mac looked rather attentive at the news that Meg had a doctor's appointment, but Meg didn't elaborate.

"So are you representing both the Navy and the plaintiff in this court-martial?" Mac asked, her eyebrows raising.

"My plaintiff is seeking defamation damages against the defendant." Meg stated formally "And the Judge Advocate General will be seeking court-martial though not separation from the Navy; just a reduction in grade and transfer to another unit for the accused." At this Alan and Mac looked at each other then shook their heads. "Even with the evidence in place?" Meg asked, looking slightly surprised at their decision.

"Nope…not at this early stage when we haven't managed to get an interview with either defendant or plaintiff." Mac stated – it never was a good idea to automatically assume a defendant's guilt. It had been evident in several cases that Mac had litigated and she was not going to jump to conclusions. Such an action could result in a mistrial or even worse a _lost case_ which would be a miscarriage of justice.

"Well…Lieutenant Kerry Belloc is my co-counsel and thus she'll be present when you interview the defendant." Meg stated. "Pretrial Article 32 is two weeks from now. Are we trying the case here or back in Falls Church?"

"I think it'll happen here." Mac said. "Having us fly back and forth isn't conducive to an established trial setting." Meg agreed…

…then commented. "I guess that pretty much covers the _get to know you_ part of the meet n' greet day." She smiled matter-of-factly rising to her feet and extending a hand to Lieutenant Commander Mattoni who grinned and shook her extended hand. "Let me introduce you to Lieutenant Belloc."

Lieutenant Belloc was a blonde haired, blue eyed woman with a perpetual smile on her heart-shaped face. Her hair was styled in a pixie cut. She was wearing the uniform of the day which was khakis or otherwise known as _peanut butters_. Extending her left hand to the two other visiting JAG officers, her Academy ring visible to both ROTC officers, Lieutenant Kerry Belloc succinctly let them know that she would accompany them to interview the plaintiff in the case and gave them a time of 0930hrs the next morning. LCDR Mattoni and Major Sarah Mackenzie acquiesced. Lieutenant Belloc was no pushover as a junior officer; having graduated in the top twenty of her Naval Academy class.

"I'm sure that we'll meet at the office before we head down." Kerry said cheerily, her voice a dulcet alto as she smiled at them. "Ma'am, Sir, pleased to meet the both of you. I'll see the both of you tomorrow."

As Mac and Alan turned back to Meg, Meg asked them. "Did you get quarters at the VOQ? Ma'am?"

Mac nodded affirmatively as Meg's question registered and LCDR Mattoni gave a verbal affirmative.

_**Meg and Animal's home. NAS Fallon, 4700 **__**Pasture Rd, Fallon, NV**_

"Sweetheart, I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow." Meg stated to her husband who looked up from his meal. His countenance looked confused at that proclamation. "I've been really tired lately and the smell of jet fuel has gotten to the point where I feel like I'm going to upchuck. I just want to make sure that I'm OK and that it's not a bug of some sort."

"OK…" Animal looked at her. "Did you want me to come with you?"

"I think I might like that…" Meg leaned her head on Animal's shoulder. "At least when I get the diagnosis, I'll have my husband there to lean on. I really don't think it's anything serious, but I'm not too fond of doctors."

Animal found that understandable because he had a loathing for having to go to the doctor as well.

_**Naval Branch Health Clinic, NAS Fallon NV**_

Lieutenant Commander Joanna Takata, United States Naval Medical Service smiled at her charge. "Lieutenant Nakamura, when was the last time you had a period?"

Meg looked at Animal who returned the look. He looked at Meg with a questioning look. "Probably sometime after the move to Fallon. A lot of stress since it was a move practically halfway across the country" Meg answered the question.

"Stress could do that, but I don't believe that's the case" LCDR Takata grinned at her. "We just assessed your urine analysis…" she paused. "Are you sure you're ready to hear the diagnosis? Lieutenant?" Another look passed between the two officers – admiral to lieutenant and back.

"What caused the queasiness?" Meg asked LCDR Takata who gave her another amused look.

"Well…Lieutenant; that queasiness is morning sickness."

"Morning sickness?!" Meg's jaw dropped open. "You're kidding, aren't you?"

"No…Lieutenant Nakamura. It seems as though…" LCDR Takata paused…a long moment. Interminably long according to Meg.

"What?" Meg wasn't sure she was hearing right.

"Well…Lieutenant Nakamura. To put it in simple English terminology; you're **pregnant**."


	4. Stacker, USMC

_**(Yes, I patterned Master Guns Stacker after a certain Sergeant Major Choozoo in Heartbreak Ridge, just as gravelly-voiced and twice as mean) – "Hey, crotchrot, you gonna slurp my lifer's juice out of my own cup?" **_

_**Naval Health Branch, NAS Fallon, NV**_

Lieutenant Commander Joanne Takata, United States Navy Medical Corps, looked at the two naval officers, the admiral and the lieutenant both who had their mouths hanging open in shock, with a smile on her face as she waited for the shock to subside.

"Pregnant?" Meg uttered, her voice betraying her nervousness. After all, she'd never been in that condition before; her face flushed, her pupils dilated in shock and she looked over at her husband, unconsciously reaching over for Animal's hand. Despite their sitting one space apart due to protocol, Animal retained her hand in his.

"Yes, in fact, Lieutenant Nakamura, you are almost four weeks along. That's usually about the time these symptoms start showing up." LCDR Takata replied as she looked at a clipboard with what Animal suspected was a chart.

"Symptoms?" Animal piped up. "You never told me about symptoms." He looked over with obvious concern at Meg's health. They were husband and wife, after all. She could have told him. There was a hint of obvious sadness in his eyes as he looked over at her "You could have told me." He said softly as he looked over at his beloved wife.

"What was there to tell?" Meg turned the question back at him, affixing him with her blue eyes then continued softly. "I didn't have morning sickness. All I felt like was that I was run-down and tired, a little irritable and bloated. And then when I walked the flight-line a couple days back on the way back to the base legal office, I caught the smell of some jet fuel and just about heaved my cookies." She shrugged her shoulders. "I figured I'd better go over to the doctor and find out what was the matter." Since they were both in uniform and not in civvies, they had to keep their distance as military protocol dictated between senior officers and junior officers. But Meg knew in her heart that her husband loved her deeply and was just expressing his concern for her well-being. A soft squeeze of his hand to reassure him sent a message silently that she loved him for his concern as well as a smile in his direction.

_**Region Legal Services Detachment, NAS Fallon, NV**_

"So, what do you think?" LCDR Mattoni asked his partner who shrugged her shoulders. They had an early start to the morning and from what it looked like the case now started to look cut and dried. Their chance at being able to swing their client's innocence of the harassment had just evaporated in the light of their interview with the client much like water off a hot cement walkway.

"Well, that pretty much blows the defense of using the retaliatory harassment angle." Mac replied. "Considering that AC3 Duerr is female.

Not only was AC3 Duerr female, but she had a chip on her shoulder with regards to the harassment charge. And her behavior while being interviewed was just short of insubordinate. It was only when the major had to warn AC3 Duerr that further behavior, such as that which Duerr was exhibiting, would get her charged with a further Article 89 that Duerr subsided.

"She really doesn't believe that what she did was wrong." Mac shrugged her shoulders. Mattoni looked at Mac. "Either she doesn't have any idea that sexual harassment is taboo or she's not operating with a full deck of cards..." She paused for a long moment then finished. "…upstairs…"

Mattoni looked over at his file folder and nodded. "2 counts of sexual harassment prior to this latest charge, a charge of insubordination against a superior NCO. 2 counts of assault towards a peer and a lengthy track record of incarceration prior to her joining the service." Mattoni looked up from the file folder. "Would point to a history of such behavior, wouldn't it?"

Mac nodded at her partner. "It would certainly appear that way. Considering that she doesn't want to cut a deal, I guess, it's a 'do your time and out' situation. Lieutenant Nakamura was fair when she offered a deal of reduction in grade and transfer, but Duerr wants to go all-out and get a jury trial." She looked out the window. "Not a good situation for her to be in."

"Mac, you know that we still have to defend her." Mattoni replied, his face expressionless, but Mac knew that he wasn't feeling confident about the chances that Duerr had at court-martial. Mac agreed that the situation was dire and they were up against a tough attorney in Lieutenant Nakamura and she knew from a few battles in the courtroom back at Falls Church, that Meg would be no push-over.

_**Naval Strike Air Weapons Center, Fallon NV**_

After spending lunch with his wife (they had to take the morning off for the doctor's appointment), Animal had driven her to the base legal office; then proceeded to his own office at the NSAWC HQ. Looking over the files of the next class, he was busily engrossed in his paperwork, when a knock at the door interrupted him. "Come in!" he barked.

"Sir?" Chief Leon Trebalos said as he leaned in the doorway. "There's a Master Gunnery Sergeant Stacker here to see you. Admiral. He says he's the new Marine Corps Chief of Staff for Enlisted at NAS Fallon and for NSAWC. Also says that he's going to be overseeing the Master-At-Arms detachment."

Looking up from his file, Animal's face turned sheet white. "Did you say…_Stacker_?" Animal asked, his voice very, very quiet. "By any chance is his name James Elmo Stacker?" Trebalos was surprised to see his usually abrasive commanding officer go suddenly silent and turn as white as if he had seen a ghost. The former Sergeant James Elmo Stacker, United States Marine Corps, was Animal's Drill Instructor at Naval Reserve Officer Training Course. He was one of the toughest Marines that Animal had ever served with (and he had served with many Marines in his well-storied eighteen year naval career) and made certain that the 'poopies' (candidates) under his command understood that they were lower than whale shit at the bottom of the sea. Now Master Gunnery Sergeant, formerly Drill Instructor Sergeant James Elmo Stacker was notorious among the Drill Instructor cadre at NROTC. He routinely failed more people than all the other drill instructor cadre combined and caused more recruits to "Drop On Request (DOR)" than any other drill instructor in the cadre. Everyone feared him, but also respected him. After 7 years as a drill instructor, he had transitioned back to active duty and went on to a well-decorated and storied career as a Marine combat non-com.

Leon leaned out for a moment and asked the invisible person, as Animal did not have the ability to see through walls, whether his given names were James and Elmo in that particular order.

A now gravelly sounding voice replied. "Yes. Chief. You may tell the admiral that I am Master Gunnery Sergeant James Elmo Stacker!" Leon leaned back into the office and nodded; his expression unreadable.

Animal got out of his seat, standing up, as the Marine Master Gunnery Sergeant strode in, snapped a perfect Marine attention and said. "Master Gunnery Sergeant James Elmo Stacker, at your service, sir!"

"At ease, Master Guns." Animal said as he strode to the Master Gunnery Sergeant who stood there post-still. "It's been a long time."

"A loooong time since Rotsee, sir." His eyes remained eyes-front, his face impassive, as Animal stood off to one side. Animal knew for a fact that the Master Guns had a internal smirk on his face. The Master Guns was in Class A Service greens with a solid rack of ribbons topped by the Navy Cross; that was earned in Bosnia covering a family of Croats who were under shelling by Serb forces. He was wounded three times in that skirmish – once from shrapnel, twice from enemy bullets. The second was the Navy Marine Corps Medal, the familiar navy blue yellow and red ribbon. A Bronze Star with Valor device as well as a Purple Heart with as many attachments as could be fitted on the ribbon and various other ribbons that went down the order of precedence filled the rack. Several of those ribbons were not present on Sergeant Stacker's uniform from what he could remember from his dim memories of ROTC. Those particular ribbons were new. He was one tough Marine and Animal knew that, all too well. Hand-to-hand.

Animal grinned at him. "Damn, Master Guns, it's damned good to see you."

"Good to see you too, Admiral."

"You still have the coin? Master Guns."

"Each and every single silver dollar, sir." His gravelly voice held a tone of wry humor in it. "All, 22,683 of them, sar! Last tour, sir, before I hang it all up. I've got 3 years till I have to muster out. The CNO and the Commandant kept me in past my thirty despite the fact that I didn't want to go to the five-sided outhouse, but I'm hitting the ceiling. I thought I'd give it my last hurrah with the aviators so when this post came up, I took it." Normally Master Guns was a man of few words. This was the most that Animal had ever heard out of Master Gunnery Sergeant James Elmo Stacker.

Animal took MGST Stacker's hand and shook it firmly. "And we're damned glad to have you here, Master Guns." Stacker's eyes followed the arm up to the collars of Animal's khakis which had two stars on either collar.

"You certainly made a career for yourself, sir. You've done class 02-80 proud, sir." The MGST looked over at the equally large medal rack on the admiral's khakis, his eyes resting on the topmost ribbon. Nodding approvingly he grunted, "Medal of Honor. Read about that, sir. Damn fine work, poopie!"

Animal chuckled wryly as he heard the old exhortation come out of Master Guns Stacker's mouth. "Remembered all the times that you were bellowing at us. Master Guns. I figured if I fouled that evolution up, you'd kick my ass from Miramar all the way to the Pentagon, so I figured I'd better figure it out right quick." Animal let out a loud bark of laughter and Master Gunnery Sergeant Stack joined in.

After a few more minutes of reminiscing over old times, Master Gunnery Sergeant Stack said. "I'm sure it's been great shooting the shit, Admiral, but I'm sure you have work to do and I need to be getting my marching orders for this post, so I'd best be getting on this."

"Of course, Master Guns. Let's get you mustered in and squared away on your duties here." The two highly decorated veterans nodded at each other and left the office.

_**5 hrs later**_

"Goddamnit, Gunny! If I don't see some semblance of order in this office inside of twenty minutes I'll have your security officers lined up outside in the parking lot doing Marine Corps PT till they drop! You got the organizational skills of a developmentally disabled octopus." Master Guns Stacker was imparting his wisdom to an unfortunate Gunnery Sergeant Master at Arms in charge of base security. The full dose of Master Guns Stacker's ire was the fact that the files on the latest charges were not in order. If there was an inspection at this very moment, the Master Guns would have taken the heat. "Simplification of your duties involves order. You were trained in this at Parris Island! And where are the shift-change rosters? Do you even know exactly when each patrol goes out for rounds and when they return? How can you even determine the safety of your security officers on duty when you don't even know what the hell they carry?!" Slapping the held orders in one hand with the back of his other hand, he barked. "Right now, I can't make heads or tails of this garbage! You are in the United States Marine Corps, Gunny, not in the BOY Scouts!"

Master Guns Stacker's duties were to oversee the main offices and the security of NSAWC and the administration. It was a comedown for an active duty combat Marine. Normally a Sergeant Major would be the logistical enlisted command of NSAWC, but Animal preferred to deal with somebody with a combat technical MOS and thus the Marine Corps Commandant had sent Master Gunnery Sergeant Stacker to NSAWC. Now it was up to Chief Leon Trebalos to get along with the Master Guns and between the both of them; institute a regimented order to the chaos.

Chief Leon Trebalos refrained from a smirk as the Marine Gunnery Sergeant Master at Arms snapped to and started issuing orders to his subordinates at a volume that could be heard over the fire of a 105mm howitzer. No slight on the last commanding officer of NSAWC, but when Chief Trebalos transitioned in from the last command that Animal had, he had seen that the office had to get organized. Inside of five hours Master Guns had the entire office walking on eggshells - even the admiral. Chief Trebalos saw out of the corner of his eyes, the rear admiral upper half peeking out of his office to see if the coast was clear and ascertaining if he could manage a sneak-run for the coffee room. Not two steps out of his office, a barking "Admiral, Sir…May I have a moment of your time, sir!?" from Master Gunnery Sergeant Stacker who hadn't even turned around from chewing out the Master at Arms caused Animal to pause comically mid-step.

Choosing not to remain off-balanced on one foot which could potentially have him impact the floor backwards with his gluteous maximus, Animal brought his foot that was paused in mid-air down to the floor so that he could balance himself properly. "Yes, Master Gunnery Sergeant." He replied to the hail. The Master Guns marched (and that was no misnomer to his pace…marched) over and snapped to a Marine Corps attention.

"Sar!" Master Guns barked gravelly in clipped stentorian tones. "I have been assessing the situation of your Master at Arms office…and I am about to institute some changes in reporting and in patrol, sir! Do I have your express permission to do so!? SIR!" he barked.

"By all means, Master Gunnery Sergeant…carry on!" Animal looked at him, still slightly confused. "When you have the necessary changes drawn up, just let me know."

"Sir, Yes SIR!" Master Guns Stacker answered with no small amount of satisfaction, about-faced and stalked back over to the Marine Master-at-Arms Gunnery Sergeant, who was still standing at the position of attention, and was back to chewing him a new rectal cavity as if the poor Gunny was still in boot-camp.

Animal hastily headed for the coffee break-room hoping that there was a Pepsi-Cola in the refrigerator – he was going to need that before the end of the day.

_**Naval Strike Air Weapons Center, Fallon NV, 1800hrs**_

Lieutenant Meg Nakamura walked up to the front door of the NSAWC Commander's office. It was their usual routine; finishing up and going home together. Walking through she was confronted by a Master Gunnery Sergeant. "Ma'am?" his gravelly voice sounded like a sand flowing over rocks.

"Good afternoon, Master Gunnery Sergeant. I'm just here to meet my husband." Meg smiled at him. The Master Gunnery Sergeant gave off the impression that he was a former DI. And Meg, being a former ROTC candidate and graduate, was keenly aware of this Master Gunnery Sergeant's gaze. It was a flat stare, neither friendly nor unfriendly, just a keen assessment on whether or not she was supposed to be in the office or not. Meg assessed his presence as well as his highly decorated uniform, her eyes pausing on the Navy Cross and his nameplate on his Class A service greens that said 'Stacker'

"…and your husband is…? Ma'am?" the Oklahoma twang of the Master Gunnery Sergeant. "So…I may make him aware of your presence? Ma'am?" He was unsure of the protocol for a Navy officer meeting her husband in the office, but he damned sure was not going to make this female squid aware of his discomfiture. As usual, Master Gunnery Sergeant Stacker was going to take the bull by the horns and make sure that he was in control of the situation.

"Master Gunnery Sergeant. My husband is Rear Admiral (upper half) Toshio Nakamura." Meg grinned at the Master Gunnery Sergeant whose eyebrows seemed to float to about the level of his hairline.

"Ma'am. I'll make the admiral aware of your presence." Turning to the door of the admiral, he marched over and pounded the pine.

"Come in?!" Meg smiled as she heard Animal's familiar bark.

"Sir!" Master Gunnery Sergeant Stacker said. "Your wife is here."

"Thank you, Master Guns." Animal replied as he got out of his seat and moved around the desk to welcome his wife. "Lieutenant Nakamura…" he said as she entered his office formally introducing the Master Guns to Animal's wife. "Master Gunnery Sergeant Stacker. He and I go back a long ways. In 1980 he was my ROTC drill instructor. Now he's here to make sure this outfit runs strac A-1." Master Guns Stacker nodded as he extended a hand to the admiral's wife. Needless to say, the men who weren't on night security duty at the airbase were more than happy to amscray at seventeen hundred.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

"Master Guns, you're working overtime…" Animal nodded to the MGSGT who grinned…

"First to arrive, last to leave, sir!" The grizzled old vet said "Gotta make sure my boys are doing their job and that means all shifts, sir."

Animal nodded. "Alright, then Master Guns, I'm going to wrap things up here and head out."

"You have a good evening, sir. Ma'am." MGSGT Stacker nodded politely to the admiral's wife as he stepped out of the admiral's office.

Meg said snidely as the two walked out to the car to go home. "Hmmm. Your ROTC drill instructor? And you brought him on at NSAWC?" she questioned. When Animal nodded she grinned. "I couldn't get away from mine fast enough." She paused for a moment as she looked over at Animal. "Sergeant Reed was tough as nails and nasty as a rusty razor blade. She could make milk curdle from yellin' at it." Meg shivered. "Her favorite name for me used to be _Candidate Barbie_ for obvious reasons."

"Hmmm?" Animal queried.

"Blonde, blue-eyed…my physical attributes. Plus I wasn't all that military before ROTC. I guess it showed." Meg replied as they reached their car and Meg opened the door on her side, looking over the top of the car, locking eyes with her husband. "Evidently she didn't think much of my cognitive abilities or my computer skills or she'd have called me Candidate Nerd Barbie."

"Wonder what she'd say knowing that you've gotten your railroad tracks." Animal stated referring to Meg's full lieutenant rank.

"I wouldn't know." Meg said. "All I knew was that she didn't like me much and since she had an Aviation MOS prior to becoming a DI, she'd be probably one of the Marine Air Wing handlers by now. Hopefully she's either at Twenty-Nine Palms or Cherry Point…" she shivered again. "Anywhere but here." Animal nodded in agreement to her.

_**Commanding Officer, Naval Strike Air Weapons Center, Fallon NV, next morning 0730 hrs**_

MGSGT Stacker brought in the forms "Sir, here's the list of the transferring in aviation maintenance MOS types. The ones who are on the top are the top candidates." On top was the leading candidate. Marine Staff Sergeant Alexa Marie Reed. Flipping the folder open, he read "Navy ROTC, University of Texas, Drill Instructor, 1990-1995.

Animal groaned. "Oh, shit. Meg's not going to like this." MGSGT Stacker smiled as he contemplated his once former candidate officer and now superior flag officer.

"Your wife may have a problem with this candidate for Marine Detachment at NSAWC? Sir?" MGSGT Stacker inquired politely as Animal nodded. The MGSGT gave him a questioning look.

"Yes, it just so happens that the Staff Sergeant was my wife's drill instructor over at NROTC at the University of Texas." Animal looked over at Master Guns Stacker who nodded knowingly.

"Gave her a hard time of it, did the staff sergeant? Sir?" Master Guns Stacker grinned.

Animal grinned wryly. "Evidently, the then Sergeant did not leave the lieutenant with a good impression."

"Well, from what I've heard, sir. SSGT Reed is a good Marine, sir." MGSGT Stacker said. "She'll do well here working on the different birds that you have in NSAWC. She's well-knowledged on the F/A-18C considering that she's worked on the F/A-18D in MAW2."

_**Region Legal Services Detachment, NAS Fallon, NV**_

Meg looked up at Mac with a measured glance. "so Duerr is saying _no deal_?"

Mac looked back at her with a reluctant nod.

"I guess…" Meg said. "…this is where I say. _I'll see you in court_. She is aware of the fact that if she pursues the course of action that she is doing that the full UCMJ penalties will be levied against her and that she may be out of the Navy?"

Mac replied. "She's aware of that, counselor and aware of the fact that she could suffer penalties including loss of rank, forfeiture of her pension and dismissal from the Navy."

Meg sighed. "Well…that's a tough road to travel, but if she's absolutely sure. Considering her track record, she may want to consider that I will be asking for the following: Dishonorable discharge, forfeiture of all pay and allowances, and confinement for 1 year." Her tone was final.

"Are you sure that isn't harsh, Lieutenant?" Mattoni stated.

"Counselor, she has repeated offenses of a nature that should have tossed her out of the Navy a long time ago. Two counts of assault, insubordination to an officer, three counts of sexual harassment. I don't know. Lieutenant Commander, but to me that sounds a heck of a lot like a situation which shouldn't be catered to any longer. She may have slid by because others were willing to overlook the blemishes on her service record, but she's reached the end of the line here. If she doesn't agree to the terms that I've given her in the offer, then she'll have the full weight of the UCMJ getting thrown at her in court." Meg stated, a no-nonsense tone in her voice.

Mac looked at Meg measuring her with the capability that Meg had displayed in cases previous at Falls Church. "Well…" Mac said. "I guess we'll see you in court."

(author's note: I will be shortening the chapters from hereon in. At 21 pages for Chapter 2, the chapters are getting extremely long for this story and I want to be able to update this story much more regularly than I've been doing)


	5. Newbie at NSAWC

_**Naval Health Branch, NAS Fallon, NV, Follow-up Checkup. **_

"Well, Lieutenant Nakamura, your hCG levels were high, which is why we were able to determine that a pregnancy was actually taking place. Normally, we'd be checking right about now as you probably would have used a home pregnancy kit." LCDR Takata smiled at Meg. "So how are you feeling?"

"Aside from the fact that I've tossed all my underwire in the trash and that I'm feeling like I have to go pee once every hour." Meg said wryly.

"Breasts are a little tender?" the lieutenant commander asked.

"Admittedly." Meg nodded. "I noticed this when my husband and I were having intimate relations. My breasts seem to be the first thing he reaches for. And when he did that, they were sore to the touch." She looked at Joanne, not the slightest bit embarrassed by her admission about such intimate details of Animal's and her intimate lovemaking details. After all, she was talking to a physician and such details were par for the course in her occupation.

"Well, it's probably due to the increase in hormones and the fact that your body is gearing up for pregnancy. After all you'll be producing the food for your little one when she gets out of your body eight months from now."

Meg made a face. "Oh…geez…By then I'm going to want him or her out." She said. "I love the thought of having a little one inside me and I love my child to bits, but the fatigue, the tenderness in my breasts and the feeling like I'm going to throw up every-time I catch a whiff of jet fuel…ugh."

"Are you feeling tired? Fatigue?" Joanne asked Meg while monitoring Meg's blood pressure with a blood-pressure cuff. "I know the nausea can be a little problematic, however it should subside by about the start of the 2nd trimester.

"A little. I'm finding it a little hard to not hit the snooze button in the morning." Meg admitted. "And I used to be such an early riser too. My husband sleeps like a log."

"That's normal." Joanne reassured Meg. "The fatigue is because your body is working overtime even while you're resting. Making a baby is a 24/7 occupation for your body right now."

Meg grinned, "Too bad I can't bill my husband for the overtime." She chuckled as she thought of the look on Animal's face when she presented him with a bill.

"Lots of shoes…comfortable shoes." Joanne commiserated with her patient.

_**TACTS Range 3, Naval Strike Air Warfare Center, NAS Fallon, NV**_

"Viper Two, Viper Three. Two contacts bearing zero two five high. Looks like Hornets, boys." Animal grinned into his oxygen mask and chuckled evilly, audible to his wingmen far in trail. Animal took the opportunity to take the stick and throttle every chance he got. Being stuck in the office was not his most favorite place in the world and it showed. The freedom he got from having the stick and throttle in his hands brought him to life. And the fact that he had such an understanding spouse was just the icing on the cake. Meg understood his love for flying, even though as a JAG lawyer, she didn't understand all the reasons why. She understood that it made Animal happy as a naval aviator and she didn't begrudge him the fact that he took the aircraft up for flights. Viper One (Animal) was in an F-16C while Viper Two and Viper Three were in C Hornets.

"Ass in the grass…" Viper Two responded. Viper Two was a young Lieutenant Commander, just promoted and just fresh off his deployment when he got transferred to NSAWC. "On the hard-deck." He was at Angels 10 or ten thousand feet, which was the hard deck for this hop.

"If we're lucky, they might not see us till we're past and can come around on their six." Viper Three responded. He was a more seasoned O-4 with three years in rank and was heading into his third and final year as a NSAWC instructor pilot.

_**TACTS Range 3, Naval Strike Air Warfare Center, NAS Fallon, NV, Top Gun Class 08-98. First Hop.**_

"Warhawk 405 to Devil 06, two contacts in the grass." Warhawk 405 was an aircraft flown by a VFA-97 F/A-18C aviator. Devil 06 was a VMFA-232 Red Devils Marine Corps F/A-18D and the F/A-18D was a two seat aircraft – one in front, one in back. So three pairs of eyes were looking back at three pairs of eyes. Even though the aggressors outnumbered the friendlies by one aircraft, there were still the same number of aviators in the air. But of course, the students boresighted.

"Roger that, Warhawk." Major Mike "Boner" DeBoniis, United States Marine Corps aviator (if you please) grinned as he watched the Hornets laying low on the hard-deck. "Make 'em come up and play?" he asked his flight-leader, Lieutenant Commander Chuck "Mange" Manguso.

"That's if they ain't too chicken to come up." Mange replied. Deliberately cueing the TACNET UHF so that the aggressors could hear the taunt. "They're missing the party."

Meanwhile, the aggressors on the other hand kept silent and kept going at level altitude just above the hard-deck. Mange noticed Boner and 1st Lieutenant David "Spaz" Spratkowski (his WSO) rocking his wings and peeling off. Curious as to why he was doing that. "Devil O6. where you going? The party hasn't even started yet."

"Hey, boy! Nice to see you. Check six." The NSAWC commander's voice echoed through his helmet comms.

Mange's eyes grew absolutely huge when he saw a brown tri-colored F-16C Aggressor Viper in his rear-views. He muttered to himself "Where the fuck did he come from?" just as the TACTS alarm blared indicating a kill – that _he'd_ been killed to be more precise. Animal had been so far ahead of his wing men who trailed him so far behind they had become a separate flight; the rookie students didn't know what to expect. In the meantime, Animal had gained altitude by going into a full burner climb almost two miles behind the opposing students, pulled over the top at Angels 30 and slotting himself in behind the trailing F/A-18D, taking him out with a TACTS Winder shot. No matter how experienced an aviator they were, they forgot one of the major tenets of air combat. _Nothing is as it seems to be_. In seeing a pair of juicy Hornets ripe for the kill, they forgot the fact that there could either be a pair in trail or that they were a pair of decoys for a more experienced ace a situation that they could face in Bosnia, Serbia or wherever they were sent to fight. That was going to be a point that Animal was going to stress in debrief.

After the hop and debrief were over. Animal and his fellow instructors headed for the Officer's mess for a quick drink of a soda and a little lunch. There was another flight that afternoon around 1600. Animal's NSAWC command liked to get in at least two flights a day if not more. The next evolution was a night air combat situation starting two days from now. Trying to dogfight at night was akin to having two boxers going at it in a ring covered with a thick drape with all the lights in the room turned off. Until one's night vision acclimated to the darkness, you couldn't see a damned thing and unless you kept all your senses attuned to what was going on around you, you could get hit out of nowhere.

The office was a mixture of staff as well as line members and it was no surprise when Animal walked through the office after doffing his speed-jeans (his g-suit) clad only in his flightsuit, which had the NSAWC patch over his right breast pocket. Animal had the NFWS (Naval Fighter Weapons School) patch on his right shoulder and the customary US flag on his left shoulder. A brown cowhide gold embossed navy wings name tag emblazoned with his name Toshio Nakamura, rank RADM and service USN simply rested over his left breast pocket affixed with Velcro. A brief discussion with MGSGT Stacker on a few matters and Animal was able to access his office to file some reports regarding the hop and his assessment on the progress of the class.

_**Region Legal Services Office Detachment, NAS Fallon, NV**_

Mac was looking over her file and making notes for the next court appearance pouring over the defense of her client with her co-chair counsel, when Meg popped her head in the office door. "Hey." Was Meg's hail.

"Yes?" Mac looked up.

"As prosecuting counsel, I've got an offer on the table." Meg grinned at her opposition attorney who looked up with a curious expression. Mattoni adopted an identical look of curiosity. "Transfer to Naples, a letter in her jacket – it means that she's going to have to work three times as hard to get herself promoted; no loss of rank and half-pay for 60 days. It's the best offer she's going to get under the circumstances."

Mac pondered it. "Let me talk to my client and get back to you."

"Just make her aware that I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart. Because you're her attorney, your need to know is that this deal is because she's capable and the Navy can't afford to lose the outlay they made in training her for her MOS. She's a capable handler when she's not snarking off and making inappropriate remarks." Meg commented as she eyed Mac. "She doesn't need to know that. Just tell her that we're willing to bargain and she'd better start thinking about her career, because if it happens again, her career will get toasted."

"I'll bring it to her attention." Mac returned. Meg was a tough cookie when it came to negotiating and for all intents; this offer was one that AT3 Duerr needed to seriously look at. AT3 Duerr was thirty-two years of age. This meant that most of her peers were at the upper end of their 2nd class rating and looking at their first-class. A loss of rank would have put her seriously out of step with her peers and that was the one thing that Duerr couldn't afford to have happen to her naval career.

_**Staff Judge Advocate, Naval Air Forces – Atlantic Region, Norfolk, VA**_

"Harm," VADM Mark A. Collins grinned from the door of his staff judge advocate's office at his staff judge advocate who looked up curiously. "Yoohoo! Lieutenant Commander…you awake? Three month assessment time's here; and you did pretty damned good. But I have a feeling that you're not entirely sold on being staff judge-advocate."

"To be entirely honest sir." Harm replied frankly, "fifteen years ago, it frankly wouldn't have crossed my mind either. My heart was completely set on being a US Naval Aviator." RADM Collins eyed Harm's wings over his left breast pocket and nodded. "I figured I'd be coming up on CAG position now or at least be in my second tour as a squadron commander."

"I kind of figured that. So how do you want to remedy that? I know because of a personal situation at JAG, that you don't want to go back there. But I know that you're not going to be entirely happy here. So, where do we stick you?" Harm wasn't expecting an outright rejection of the candidacy for his position. What was this going to do to his career?

"Harm, you're either happy as JAG or as a naval aviator. This ol' crusty admiral here knows this. And judging from your work-ethic, you make the best of a bad situation and work your damned hardest. The best thing that I can do for your career is put you in a position where you'll be happiest. The CAG wasn't telling you what he did, because he wanted you to not continue what you loved doing (Harm had talked to a CAG about returning to flight duty, notifying him that his eyesight was back to normal after corneal laser ablation surgery), but because he knew that it was best for your career at the time to stay at JAG. What are your intentions? Commander? You thinking of doing a twenty and out?" VADM Collins knew some of his subordinate's history over a few glasses of cold suds over the course of the three months that Harm had been working for him.

"The thought had crossed my mind, sir, but I'd certainly like to make at least my first star." Harm quipped with his usual grin plastered across his face.

"Well, give me a few days and I'm gonna see if I can come up with something for you." Harm looked up at the admiral to see a knowing grin cross the admiral's face. "Might take some convincing with the SECNAV."

_**CO, Naval Strike Air Warfare Center, Fallon, NV, two days later**_

"Yeah, Tuck, what makes you think I've got room for every damned aviator under the midday sun?" was the rather irritable response from a very perturbed rear admiral (upper half). "I got only so much aircraft and avgas to go around. y'know."

"He's not a happy camper, y'know." The vice-admiral's voice on the other end was irritatingly cheery.

"And that makes it MY problem?"

"Well…" the vice-admiral sounded way too smug for a guy asking for a favor. "I could always keep him…but I think he'd be much happier over there."

"Alright…send him over…" the rear admiral's voice was resigned while if it even possible, the vice-admiral's voice got even more smug. "But, Tuck, he prangs one of my aircraft, you're going to be defending him because I'll keelhaul him."

_**Region Legal Services Office Detachment, NAS Fallon, NV (same timeframe)**_

Mac was on the phone with the admiral. "Admiral?" she queried as Rear Admiral Chegwidden informed her of the fact that she was temporarily (for a three month stint) detached to RLSO Detachment, NAS Fallon. Since they had cleared that case, she was packing up to return to Falls Church, when the captain in command of the RLSO detachment had informed her that there was an important call from her commanding officer.

"Yes, Major, you've been temporarily assigned to RLSO Detachment Fallon as there is a backlog of cases there that need to be worked on. Lieutenant Nakamura is very efficient, however she can only do so much to clear those cases. You will be working hand in hand with Lieutenant Nakamura until the backlog is clear. I've recalled Lieutenant Commander Mattoni since I have need of him here. But the important cases are coming out of Fallon right now, Major and I need you there."

"Yes, sir!"

"If you need any staff, I'll make them available as I can. Eventually, I will need you back here, Major." AJ's voice was firm. "We have our own cases that we need to deal with as well."

"Yes, sir."

"By the way, good job on clearing up that harassment case. That was an angle that I hadn't thought of." The admiral complimented her.

"Actually, sir. That was Lieutenant Nakamura's doing. She offered the deal, I took it." Mac informed the admiral.

"Be that as it may; it kept a sailor in a much-needed MOS from getting mustered out dishonorably discharged." AJ replied. "Good work to both of you."

"Thank you, sir, I'll pass along the message to Lieutenant Nakamura." Mac replied. As Mac hung up the phone, Meg peaked her head in the doorway.

"Hey, Major, want to grab some lunch?" Meg asked.

"Yeah, I'm feeling kind of hungry. The admiral called, wanted to tell you that you did a great job on the Duerr case."

"Glad that it worked out." Meg grinned back at her friend. "MOS needed to be retained. Hopefully she doesn't do something that stupid again."

"By the way, Meg, I'm TDY here for three months. Evidently the admiral wants me to help you clear some of the cases that's backlogged." Mac looked at her friend's face for any sign that news was unwelcome. It wasn't unwelcome. Meg's face lit up.

"Hallelujah!" Meg crowed. "The captain has been wanting someone in for that very reason. I've been trying, but we're short-staffed. One of our legals opted to not re-up and we've been short one lawyer for quite some time now."

"Shall we drop by your husband's office and see if he's up to having some lunch? Is he flying today?" Mac asked.

"No…he's not on the roster today. He's probably clearing some paperwork."

_**CO's office, Naval Strike Air Warfare Center, Fallon, NV**_

Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. walked through the office door of the commanding officer's office at Naval Strike Air Warfare Center. Seated at the table, the commanding officer was looking through a file. "Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. reporting for duty, sir!" Harm snapped to attention two paces from the front of the desk of the commanding officer.

The admiral looked up, giving him an assessing look. "Somehow…I figured it was you." Was the dry reply to Harm's statement. Animal looked up at the aviator, as he unfolded himself from the chair he was sitting in and stood up reaching over the table to shake the tall aviator's hand. "So…Tuck tells me that you weren't happy in the position that you were placed in. You have any idea what kind of shit that can do to your career?"

"As a matter of fact, he didn't, sir." Harm replied. He knew that he was going to get grilled by Animal. It'd always been this way. And it was always good-natured.

"What the hell makes you think we've got space for you, Commander?" Animal muttered caustically. "You ever flown the F-5E?"

"No, sir. I haven't had the pleasure of being rated in that particular aircraft, sir." Harm replied.

"Well, guess what…it's your lucky day." Animal remarked dryly. "It's going to be your mount for the next three months. After which you may, if you're lucky, transition to the F-16C or the F/A-18C. For the next twelve weeks you're going to be a student. You're going to go through the instructor course at Top Gun." Animal was in flight suit, UOD de rigueur for NSAWC instructors and the coveted patch was on his right upper bicep of his flightsuit. With two stars on each shoulder of his flight suit, Animal was an imposing figure. "You do realize the instructor rookies get the shit-aircraft. You get the bruised banana." The bruised banana was the yellow and brown F-5E Tiger II sitting on the tarmac – it was also one of the most hated aircraft in the NSAWC inventory. What Harm didn't realize was that the 'bruised banana' was also known as the _designated mort_- the bruised banana camouflage was a major screw-up in camouflage – someone had mixed the tan yellow (it was supposed to be colored sand) so that it unfortunately became bright yellow and some twisted bastard from wayyy before Animal's time had decided to sadistically keep that aircraft that color. The brown added in made it look like a bruised banana. It was so visible from far away that any instructor assigned to that particular aircraft knew that he wasn't going to enjoy his day. F-14s would see the aircraft from 10 miles away and call a fox three on the aircraft right away. Unless the students were half asleep at the controls, anyone could see that aircraft in the air inside of three seconds.

"You will be going through the 12 week, Naval Strike Fighter Instructor course to determine where your skills are in terms of your assignment. And you will have the opportunity to earn your patch."

Harm knew exactly what he was being offered; the chance to go through Top Gun – to join the ranks of the patch-wearers. The Top Gun patch was an instantly recognizeable patch, a circular patch with concentric red and black targeting rings with a stylized MiG 21 in a circular field of blue at the center of the crosshairs of a gunsight. Harm saw the Top Gun patch on his friend's flight suit and coveted it. He had been tossed out of naval aviation before ever having the chance to fly at that prestigious school as a student and the fact that he had been given this chance was a dream come true. But Harm also realized that his friend, even though he had known him for a while, was a tough-as-nails commanding officer as well as an instructor and the chance he was given would be monitored very carefully. Harm had to meet expectations. The Navy did not like to misspend money and it cost millions to train a naval aviator at NSAWC. SFTI (Strike Fighter Tactics Instruction) course cost a ton and it was akin to a university advanced degree in modern air combat.

This was a chance of a lifetime and Harm resolved that he was going to make the best of it. He smiled. "Aye-aye, sir." The smile on his face was one that almost seemed like it was going to split his face. Harm was happy; he was back in his element. A stick and throttle in his hands was the best thing that could happen to him.

Animal relented. "So what did the doctor say?"

"He said it was some residual scarring on the cornea. Laser ablation surgery fixed the deal. Had it done over two months ago just because I figured that I wanted to retain what eyesight I had."

"So it turned out better than you thought."

Harm nodded. "It did. In fact, better than I thought. I could see well enough to drive, but it was now good enough to fly again. But never thought that I would get that chance." Any aircraft was fine with Harm, even an F-5E Tiger II.

"Well, you're getting a chance." Animal said. "But you'd better grasp it with both hands this time around." Animal came around the desk. "Now…let's go introduce you to your mount." We got quite a few things that we have to do to get you all kitted up for your course. We're starting a new course in six days, you'll be in that."

As they stepped towards the door, there was a knock on the door. Animal opened the door to find Meg and Mac on the other side. A gasp sounded as Mac's mouth fell open when Harm stepped around Animal to come into view.


	6. Cat's Out Of The Bag

_Author's Note: I'm treating Meg's "lieutenant jg" rank as 1 year already served at the start of Season 1 episode 2 "Shadow", In this AU string of stories: she was promoted to "lieutenant" at the beginning of what would be Season 2 after successfully defending Harm from false charges of murder. This means that as of 2008 she would have 3 years time in grade – the minimum "time in grade" requirement for eligibility for promotion to Lieutenant Commander. There is also a minimum 10 year service requirement. However to complicate matters, one can be selected for promotion below grade, in-grade, or above-grade. If you're confused already, you're not alone. If you are selected for promotion below grade (deep-selected) you are one of the 10% stars in the Navy. Usually you are frocked as one grade above your current rank until you satisfy "time-in-service". "Frocked" means you are able to wear the rank of whatever rank you were promoted to, but unable to draw the pay until such time as you have successfully completed the minimum time-in-service requirement. Yes, this is confusing…especially for a civvie puke like me. And this whole promotion thing gets even more confusing when one hits admiral: 07 grades and above. This is why research is so crucial for these kind of stories. _

* * *

><p><em><strong>CO's Office, Naval Strike Air Warfare Center, Fallon, NV<strong>_

"Harm?" Meg sounded surprised as Harm came into full view.

"Harm?" Mac asked, one of her eyebrows rising to her hairline, "You have some explaining to do." She threatened, despite the fact that her countenance was belying the direness of her threat and the tone of her voice implied that she seemed rather perturbed that he hadn't said a single thing about coming out to Fallon.

"OK…Mac." was the infuriatingly short lackadaisical response. Harm was always like this every time he got around fighter pilots. And it drove Mac absolutely nuts. They had been on several cases together prior to his transfer to the Pentagon that had been the result of their relationship. Harm around planes was akin to a kid in a candy store – he couldn't keep his hands off them.

Animal looked at his wife…and at Mac…then at Harm. "So…uh…where were we?" he quipped lightly. "Oh, yeah…I think it was to get you kitted out for your new assignment here." He grinned, but his grin faltered when he saw Mac's face. She must have missed the humor.

Mac's arms had moved from resting by her sides to clenched fists on her hips, and the toe-sole of her right shoe was drumming a war-beat on the floor. "I'm waiting for an explanation. Harmon Rabb Jr." Harm winced at the Mac's use of all two given names and a suffix (AN: I'm not using the _Harmon David Rabb Jr…using the actor's name as a middle name – it's all too commonly used_). "Better make it quick. So…why are you here rather than at the Pentagon?"

"Yep…significant others don't like to be kept out of the gouge-loop." Animal pointed out _helpfully_. Both Mac and Harm looked at him with identical expressions of _that's not helping_. Opting to ditch the advice-giving, Animal looked over at Meg and decided. "How about you use my office for the time being? Let's go for a walk, Lieutenant. I think they need some time to work this out." He said hastily. "Take your time. Kitting out can wait." He advised Harm and both spouses left.

Mac shook her head as she pulled Harm back into Animal's office and shut the door. "So, flyboy." She said archly with an undertone of _there'd better be a damned good explanation coming._. "Why did you not inform me of the fact that you had a new assignment, especially a flying assignment? What about your eyes, your night-blindness?"

"I just didn't have time to. Mac." Harm said quietly. "I got told that I was doing well at the new position, but Vice-Admiral Collins sensed I was unhappy at the position and the vice-admiral didn't want to take me on full time if my heart wasn't in it. Hence the reason why I was shuffled summarily out of the position I was in. I had gotten Lasik a few months back." Harm paused when he perceived Mac's unhappiness about the fact that she had been left out of the loop. "I should have told you, shouldn't I?" He ventured hesitantly. He knew he was in shit.

"Ya think?" Mac said sarcastically. She was secretly elated that Harm had got his eyesight back…and that he was at a post that he wanted to be in, but she was unhappy that she was left out of the loop and taken for granted. "I don't like being taken for granted…flyboy. And I really don't like finding out about this after the fact. You need to start talking. Harm." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Don't leave me out of the loop. I love you too much to do that to you. You know I'm TDY here at Fallon. I just got the message from the admiral…and YOU…" she poked him in the chest with her index finger. "you're the first person I've told here, now that you're here. This is my _keeping you in the loop_. Stickboy!" she poked him in the chest two more times for good measure. "See how that works?" Harm nodded his head like a bobblehead. "Now, tell me about the Lasik that you got."

"Well, the doctor told me that my night blindness wasn't _night-blindness_ per se. He said that I had scar tissue from an infection in my eyes. I think it was during that time in the Med when I ended up taking a dunk in the ocean when I was in my nugget deployment for Desert Storm. I ended up with a parasite that caused an infection in my eyes which unfortunately survived the antibiotics that I got treated with. Animal was with me when I punched out after I got hit by enemy fire from an Iraqi MiG. He flew cover for me while I swam around in the ocean trying not to get eaten by sharks." Harm related the story to Mac. "The Lasik took care of the scar tissue and when my eyes healed, it also took care of the vision problems at night. I was able to see again and had vision good enough to go back to flying fighters. The SECNAV doesn't want me near the front line, but VADM Collins managed to get me into a flying billet with my buddy from RAG days. Animal and I have been through a hell of a lot together." He grinned that flyboy grin.

"No wonder the two of you stick together." Mac replied.

"It's not for the lack of assignments in different locales. Seems to be par for the course of our careers." Animal muttered as he poked his head in the door. "You guys make up? Kissy facey? Everything copacetic?" He inquired somewhat casually. Meg was right behind him.

Mac grinned at Animal. "Well…let's go see what flyboy has to do to get himself ready to be able to fly here?" She extended her hand towards the door. "What are you waiting for? Harm. I'm curious."

"Well, let's head for the gear room then." Harm replied as he waited for Animal to show them the way to the equipment room where one got their flight-gear kitted out.

Meg grinned. "What the heck, we'll get food afterwards."

_**Flight Equipment Room, NAS Fallon, NV**_

"Sir, this is your TACAIR helmet. They just replaced the HGU-55/P, sir. Since you've specified that your mount is an F-5E Tiger II, sir, we can't give you the MBU-14/P O2 mask, we're going to give you the MBU-12/P, sir, that will fit on the tank fittings in the F-5E, sir." The Aviation Survival Equipmentman 3rd class stated as he handed the lieutenant commander a white helmet emblazoned with the NFWS logo on the sides and an MBU oxygen-mask. He took the lieutenant commander over a O2 testing machine, got him to put on the oxygen mask and helmet to check and make sure the fit was just fine so that he was getting oxygen flow at the right pressure and checking the seal to see if there was any leaks or not. Lack of oxygen hypoxia could be potentially fatal with the aviator going into a dreamy state and unresponsive to all hails and commands.

"That's quite alright, PR3. We're getting into nuts and bolts. Just so long as it supplies my brain cell singular with oxygen, I should be fine." Harm quipped, looking over at his buddy from flying days. Mac rolled her eyes as Harm looked over at her.

"Are you sure you have only one?" Mac pointed out the predicament with an evil grin. "If it's just one, you seem to over work it quite often. Maybe it has team-mates that you don't know about?"

Harm grinned back. "Well, I have to be nuts to go to Top Gun at my age; that's why I say I must have one single brain-cell and it's dying of anoxia." Meg shook her head in amusement while Animal, despite his two-stars, opted to keep his mouth shut.

After Harm was kitted out with flight suit, survival equipment, g-suit, vest and all the flight equipment that he could possibly need, they walked him over to his BOQ (base officer's quarters) which he would use until he was able to get off-base housing.

While Animal and Meg tried not to listen in, Harm queried Mac, "You're TDY for the next three months, as you said, and I'm planning on finding a place pretty quickly. You wanna save a couple hundred bucks pay and bunk with me?" He peered around Mac to eyeball Animal to see if it was ok under regs.

"I don't know anything about it." Animal looked at Harm, raising both hands, palms out, shook his head and muttered. "I didn't hear it, I don't want to hear it. I'm going deaf listening to turbines and afterburners. What did you say? Forget it, I'm not listening." Meg grinned at him in indulgent amusement. "So, what we doing next?" Animal exclaimed cheerily.

"Feed me?" Meg asked pointedly of Animal, her stomach was growling impatiently for some edibles. "After all I'm eatin' for two here." She uttered with her arms crossed irritatedly at Animal then clapped her hand to her mouth. "oops." At that both Mac and Harm turned around, Harm's jaw dropping open in shock and surprise.

"Say again?" Mac interrogated. "Did you just say you were eating for two?"

"I guess that cat's out of the bag now." Meg groaned. "Don't let it get out, but…yes…I'm having to provide nourishment for two now. I just talked to my OB/GYN and I'm _in that way_."

Harm looked at Meg, then at Animal, then back at Meg. "Y-y-y-…you're pregnant?" Harm stammered as he looked absolutely dumbfounded.

"That's usually what _in that way_ means. Lieutenant Commander Rabb." Meg tossed him a familiar bright saucy smile; the one that usually made Animal's heart leap cartwheels when directed at him.

Harm turned his look back at Animal. "You sure as hell work quick, sir." Realizing his rather insubordinate comment, he blanched, noticing the two stars on Animal's flight-suit. "with all due respect, sir." He added.

"It's why I felt a week ago like I was going to heave chunks when I walked by the flight-line. Plus my stomach has been unsettled in the mornings. Haven't vomited anything, but it's just the general uneasiness of the tummy at those times. A certain scent and I turn green around the gills." Meg stated. Animal would have given her a comforting hug and a kiss but they were both technically in uniform.

"Well, instead of jawing around the BOQ, I guess we should make our way to someplace and get a bite to eat." Animal declared decisively. "Can't have the Lieutenant here starving." Meg gave him a look as if to say '_good choice_'.

_**Harm & Mac, 714 Noel Ln, Fallon, NV**_

"Harm, I like the look of this one. It's a classic design." Mac indicated as the Fallon, NV real estate agent showed them around the house. "It's got two bedrooms and looks like it's been kept in good solid shape." Animal and the JAG Detachment commander had given them the rest of the day off to search for accommodation.

Harm looked at her with a beatific expression. Searching for a house for himself and Mac had been something he'd day-dreamed about ever since he'd realized just how hard he had fallen for a certain Sarah Mackenzie. And to see the vision of her in a sundress (considering how hot the vision was…and how hot the temperature was outside)which she had changed into at the VOQ so that they could go off-base…was mind-numbingly sensuous.

"And you said the home was $182,500?" Mac asked. "Any problems with rattlesnakes in the area." Harm seemed to be content to let Mac ask all the questions as she sought information from the realtor.

"Well, there have been reports of sidewinders, but we have a well-respected snake-relocation specialist in the area which specializes in removal of problem snakes and other pests. The bark scorpions can be a major pest too. You get stung by one of those, that sting is going to hurt like hell." The realtor informed her. (Needless to say, the Arizona Bark Scorpion is one of the scorpions in the Sonoran desert that can induce a medically significant event. 2 fatalities owing to this scorpion's sting have been recorded in the State of Arizona).

"That's good that there's a pest-relocation service. Because I don't particularly want a close-encounter of the _rattled_ kind." Mac quipped.

Harm was content looking through the home and they nodded to the realtor that they were interested. The realtor suggested going to a restaurant and drawing up an offer. Harm and Mac both accepted the offer as they were getting a bit hungry for dinner.

_**Meg & Animal's Home, NAS Fallon, 4700 Pasture Rd. Fallon, NV; that night**_

"Why didn't you tell me that you felt sick to your stomach going past the flightline?" Animal looked over at Meg. "I could have come over to the JAG detachment offices and met with you there in terms of any legal matters." Meg looked at him and arched an eyebrow.

"I'm fine." She replied as she gathered together some things to cook for dinner. "It's not that much of an inconvenience. I still have to get some exercise anyways and I do like going over there. Something about liking looking at aircraft, I think." She gave him a smile as she went about doing things in the kitchen and inwardly exulted as Animal's arms went around her waist as Animal nuzzled her neck. Meg leaned back into his embrace, turned her head around and their lips met in a sultry kiss. "So…do you think we're going to hear wedding bells for those two anytime soon?" she asked casually. "When we were at lunch and I was relating the results of the doctor's appointment, Mac kept looking at Harm like she wanted something."

"Hmmmm, I dunno, but I think the posting here is probably just the kick in the ass that they need." Animal said as his brown eyes met up with her blue ones. "Y'think they'd make a good pair?"

"I know so…" Meg assured him as she turned around in his embrace, drew her husband close as they shared a kiss. "After all, we've got the experience to know so."

"Love you, sweetheart." Animal grinned at Meg.

"Hold onto that thought, flyboy…" she smirked, sizing him up and down. "…until after we eat." The food was delicious, but all Animal could think of was the feeling of her in his arms afterwards.

_**Naval Strike Air Warfare Center, NAS Fallon, NV**_

"Commander Rabb, this is Sheila Walters, the real estate agent that you and Ms. Mackenzie talked to yesterday?" the woman's voice was rich and warm as she spoke to Harm.

"Yes, Hello, Ms. Walters." Harm replied.

"The sellers accepted your second counter-offer. The home has sold for $179,500. Congratulations." Ms. Walters notified him. "If you remember the house was vacant and the sellers have already bought. I can have the keys for you this afternoon."

"That's great. Thank you." Harm stated as he arranged the time to meet Sheila Walters at the agency. He had managed to transfer the full amount of the home from his trust account (of which there was quite a substantial amount in there; more than enough to cover a house 10x that cost) that was set up for him by his step-father, Frank Burnett, who had lovingly done so despite Harm's rejection of him. Harm knew damned well that he needed to make reparations for the fact that Frank had accepted him without censure or judgment while he had done the exact opposite. He knew his mother and his step-father loved him without question. Judging from what he had heard from Mac; she hadn't had the same benefit of a loving family. He was hoping that he could provide a _happy family_ for Mac's benefit.

When he and the realtor had hung up, he placed a call to the Fallon JAG detachment office. When the familiar warm voice of his girlfriend came on the line, he smiled. "Mac?"

"So, Lieutenant Commander, have you got some news for me?" Mac said warmly.

"We have the house. All I have to do is set up a bank certified check covering the full amount and we pick up the keys tonight. Care to go bed-hunting tonight?" he teased.

"You're bad." Mac's voice was full of laughter. "Is that a date, Lieutenant Commander?"

"Yep…and I'll even include dinner in the bargain."

"Deal." Her voice was warm and affectionate and the timbre of her voice started a fire of desire for her deep in Harm's innards. His romantic ardor was cooled off instantly after he got off the line and turning around to see Animal standing in front of him in full flight gear.

"Hey…grab your flight-suit and gear. We're going up on an assessment flight. We're gonna take up an 2-seater F-5F. _Grab your socks and count yer rocks_. Time's a wastin'." Animal said.

"Rocks?" Harm asked quizzically.

"Yeah…there should be two of 'em. The ones you were born with." Animal shot back over his shoulder as he walked away. Harm shook his head. There was always a new turn-of-phrase that Animal could come up with. Any more pondering and he'd be burning daylight that he could be using burning holes in the sky. Harm picked himself out of the chair and headed for the locker-room to grab his flight gear.

_**Tarmac, NAS Fallon, NV**_

The F-5F Tiger II was a blue-gray ghost camo'd aircraft that sat close to the ground on the tarmac. The brilliant yellow huffer cart was standing beside the aircraft with the hoses already attached to the aircraft. "VFC-13 is letting us take this baby up for a run." Animal responded to Harm's silent question. Harm was dressed in a MA-2 torso harness with survival vest on, and a g-suit strapped around his legs, grasping his TACAIR flight helmet in his hand. Completing the image of a naval aviator, Harm had his Rayban aviator teardrop style sunglasses on shading his eyes. The sun shining off the white concrete tarmac was damned near blinding. Animal stood there in identical gear and sunglasses. Harm could feel a wave of satisfaction rolling off his friend as he stood there taking in the F-5F. "This baby is just about as old as you are." Animal grinned. "They stripped her down and rebuilt her. Re-engined, but the frame is 1965. The type came in operation first in 1962."

The maintenance chief walked over. "She's already to fly, sir." The chief stated as he handed over a clipboard with the inspection details written on it to Animal who looked it over then handed it over to Harm for his perusal. When Harm was finished looking at it, he handed it back to Animal who pulled out his silver Cross pen and signed on the dotted line accepting the aircraft with a flourish, then they went to doing a walk-around on the aircraft, pulling on the TACTS pod to make sure that it was secured to the aircraft ordnance mount. They did a thorough one.

NORAD Tactical Air Defense hot scrambles were the only time where _kick the tires; light the fires_ was allowed. And as Animal liked to say; that was the realm of the Air Force. When the walkaround was complete, Harm and Animal mounted the aircraft. "You checked out in this aircraft?" Harm inquired of Animal.

"They say I am, but it's been a while. I might have to ask you for the manual to this thing." Animal quipped back. That didn't reassure Harm any. Considering the fact that Animal had indicated the structural age of the airframe, this fed into Harm's unease.

"oh…shit." Harm muttered barely audibly.

"Ah…good ol' Mk 2 gauges." Animal grinned – the sadistic bastard; thoroughly enjoying Harm's discomfiture, "You remember how to read these things?" Was that a trickle of sweat coming off Harm's forehead? "Looks like we're flying ol' Mk. 1 eyeball here." Motioning to a handler, who came up the ladder, Animal yelled loudly. "HEY! DO YOU KNOW WHERE THE ON-SWITCH IS?!" The VFC-13 handler grinned at Harm's discomfiture which didn't please Harm much.

"Should be right there, sir." The handler pointed at the engine start and nodded at Animal who waited until the handler had gotten down the ladder and removed both Harm's ladder and Animal's to hit the engine start.

"Good thing we had someone who knew what he was doing." Animal grinned back at Harm through the rear views.

By this time, Harm was wondering if it might be wiser to eject rather than trust a safe landing from the front seat.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, the take-off was swift and the F-5F's rate of climb was phenomenal. And Animal landed the F-5F just as easily as he had landed the F-14s that he flew.

"You had me worried." Harm said.

"Yeah, I'm a twisted bastard, aren't I?" Animal replied grinning evilly. Harm's response was an up-raised eyebrow.

_**Air Combat Tactics Class, Naval Strike Air Warfare Center, Fallon, NV**_

Harm followed Animal into a class of recruits. Animal was carrying a samurai sword in one hand as he strode up to the front of the class-room in his flight suit sans g-suit and other gear. His embroidered two stars were on his shoulder and Harm could see the rest of the students' eyes following Animal's path to the dais wondering what was going on. Harm took a seat on the edge of the classroom to watch Animal's performance as an instructor. Animal gave the class an _inscrutable Asian_ look waiting for dead silence. Then he spoke. "It seems that a young man volunteered for military service during World War II. He had such a high aptitude for aviation that he was sent right to Pensacola Naval Air Station, skipping recruit training. The very first day at Pensacola he solos and is the best flier on the base. All they could do was give him his gold wings and assign him immediately to an aircraft carrier in the Pacific. On his first day aboard, he took off and single-handedly shot down 6 Japanese Zeroes. Then climbing up to 20,000 ft., he found 9 more Japanese planes and shot them all down as well. Noting that his fuel was getting low, he descended, circled the carrier and came in for a perfect landing on the deck. He threw back the canopy, climbed out and jogged over to the captain. Saluting smartly he said, _Well sir, how did I do on my very first day?_ The captain turned around, bowed politely, withdrew his samurai katana and replied, _You make one velly, velly selious mistake!_" The last sentence was drawled in a corny Japanese accent which sounded like George Takei's deep drawling half-Asian accent which was pulled off very well owing to Animal's Asian face while brandishing his samurai sword in the air. There was a rash of nervous laughter amongst the students sitting in the classroom as Animal looked upon them with nary a smile on his face; his hand on the scabbard of the samurai sword. Dropping the accent, he continued. "this joke may be funny, but it has a serious side to it as well." He paused as he put the samurai sword on the dais. "In air combat, situational awareness is crucial; lack of it can get you killed" Raising an eyebrow he repeated his earlier Japanese accent and said. "Young aviators! Do not rand on airclaft callier with red circle!" brandishing the sword again, he uttered "This…wasu my gurandfather's sword." He finished off the joke and that completely cracked the class up albeit with nervous looks amongst the students wondering if he was dead serious.

Ridiculous though it may have seemed, the joke drove the point home that they needed to always have their wits about them in the air and that was the point that Animal intended to make. The rest of the lecture was a serious topic of maintaining situational awareness as well as utilizing their wingmen to offset the situation. Rolling horizons and rapid attitude changes while in air combat could easily disorient an aviator and as such, the lecture touched on aspects of the situation that could be encountered.

The young aviators in the Top Gun (SFTI) class appreciated the approach that Animal took with their instruction and thoroughly enjoyed it. After class, several aviators approached Animal and shook his hand, looking forward to their next hop.

"Damn." Harm said as he got up out of his seat and walked over to Animal. "that was a hell of a good lecture."

"Well, get used to it, Lieutenant Commander, you'll be imparting your knowledge to young, up and coming flyers. We need to make this curriculum interesting and hopefully they'll learn something." Animal replied as he grinned. "Humor goes a long way to making a lesson stick."


	7. Circumstances Have Changed

AN: The "bruised banana" aircraft was based on reality. In 1983, there was a **TA-4J Skyhawk BuNo 154313 of VA-126 Bandits **Squadron that was painted up in a hideous yellow-brown camouflage. And aviators hated flying that thing; it was considered a "_**designated mort**_" for the exact reasons as stated for the F-5E in the story.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Naval Strike Air Warfare Center, NAS Fallon, NV, 1 week later, Friday. <strong>_

0600 hrs brought the sun to about the thirty degree angle from the horizon and a hint of the shimmering heat of the Nevada desert to come. The sun cast its warmth on the two aviators walking out to their aircraft; one tall, the other much shorter, both clad in flight gear from top to bottom, flight helmets held in hand as they strode out to their waiting mounts, both F-5Es. The hop today was slated for a two versus two; a simple hop against students in the Power Projection course, but it was also a test for the taller aviator to learn whether or not he had what it took to be a fighter tactics instructor. For the shorter, more experienced aviator, it was a chance to evaluate all three student aviators on their progress. ACM (Air Combat Maneuvering) was a field of endeavor that was unforgiving and any mistakes on anyone's part could result in a fatal accident in training or becoming a kill when the bullets and long tubes with fins filled with explosives were real.

Even though the Aircraft Maintenance personnel had gone over the F-5E Tiger IIs with fine tooth combs, the two aviators did their accustomed walk-around of their respective aircraft. Rocking the TACTS pod on their wingtip mounts by hand, they made certain that they were securely locked on. Then they went nose-to-tail checking and making hatches were secure, that pitot-static system tube covers were off so that instruments would be functional (nobody wanted to go up in a non-functioning instruments equipped aircraft – could be fatal). After making certain that everything was functional and in working order which meant that they were certain that nothing could potentially fall off the aircraft, they put on flight-helmets and then climbed the ladders into their respective cockpits. The handlers trundled their huffer carts to the aircraft and began the painstaking job of setting up for engine start by sending airflow through the turbines to get up enough electrical flow through the generators for Animal and Harm to start their engines.

Harm winced as he looked at the brilliant yellow "bruised banana" paintjob of his F-5E. It was going to be hard NOT to see that aircraft in the air. Looking over at his flight leader's aircraft which was a blue-ghost camouflage paintjob, he chuckled wryly. Of course, he thought to himself wryly. Animal would take every possible advantage that he could. Harm had been enrolled in the Navy Fighter Weapons School program so that he could pass it but he was flying as an instructor Aggressor and not as a student flying F/A-18s. Dissimilar TACTS Air-Air training was a necessity so the NSAWC staff used F-16 Vipers and F-5E Tiger IIs to provide that dissimilar ACM training that couldn't be achieved flying F/A-18s versus F/A-18s. For one the Vipers and Tiger IIs were smaller and more maneuverable than the F/A-18 Hornet, similar in dimensions to the smaller MiGs such as the 21 and the 29 that were in use around the world.

Flipping switches, the shrill whine of the twin General Electric J85-GE-21Bs filled the air and faded to a hiss and soft whine as Harm and Animal closed the canopies of their respective F-5Es and went through the exhaustive preflight checklists.

"Harm, how you read?" Animal's voice came through the headphones in Harm's flight helmet.

Keying his radio on the MBU-12/P oxygen-mask, he grinned. "Read you five-by-five. Animal."

"Ready to scare some cones today?" Animal radioed back.

"Always. Animal. Just show me the way." Harm got a wry chuckle back from Animal as the handlers removed the chocks and gave them a thumbs up for them to engage throttle. Both men saluted their handler in acknowledgement as first Animal and then Harm eased their throttles forward to taxi out to the active runway.

Switching his radio to UHF Channel 119.25 to contact the tower, "Bogey 01, Fallon Tower. Clearance Request Runway One-Three Right. Formation take-off, FRTC Direct, Departure Radial 325" Animal requested departure clearance as his F-5E Tiger II waited patiently on the run-up beside the runway in question, Harm parked close by his wingtip. They would do an echelon take-off.

"Bogey 02, Fallon Tower Clearance Request Runway One-Three Right, Formation take-off, FRTC Direct, Departure Radial 325." Harm radioed his request in to the tower as well.

"Fallon Tower, Bogey 1, Bogey 2, Cleared Runway One-Three Right for Formation Takeoff, FRTC Direct Departure Radial 325. Have a good flight."

Easing throttles forward while releasing the brakes, the two F-5Es maneuvered onto the designated departure runway. Lining up to Animal's right, Harm maneuvered his F-5E into place; the two F-5s faced the end of the runway fourteen thousand feet down the strip. Stomping on the brakes, Animal pushed the throttle past full detents into afterburner, pumping 10,000 ft lbs of thrust out the back of those J85-GE-21Bs. Harm's aircraft did the same thing pumping lots of dirty brown exhaust out the back-end. Animal released the brakes, sending his F-5E down the runway and three seconds later Harm did the same. Echelon or formation take-off was accomplished by a three second interval between take-offs. Animal's F-5E lifted off the runway at about the three-quarter distance mark down the runway, as did Harm's. Just before they reached the dirt road that marked Macari Ln, both F-5Es banked hard left on a heading of three-two-five degrees as they topped the minimum hard-deck of ten-thousand feet.

_**Region Legal Services Office Detachment, NAS Fallon, NV**_

Major Sarah Mackenzie stood in front of Captain Maria Albanesi who looked at the Marine major with a calculated stare. "Well, Major. How are you finding the desert?"

"Very interesting, Ma'am. I've been here almost three weeks since I was first brought on board for the case; two since I was notified that I would be staying for three months and it's a nice place." Mac decided to play along with the personal question but was curious as to why the question had come up in the first place.

"Uh-huh." Captain Albanesi grunted. "You are aware that we are highly short-staffed here. It was just by chance that we managed to snag an experienced JAG from Falls Church and we are pretty much an all Navy outfit." She paused to pick up a folder and paused to gauge Mac's reaction. The Marine was pretty squared-away in her book. She'd heard about the attempt by Lieutenant Colonel John Farrow to undermine the Marine when she was a Lieutenant but the Lieutenant had resisted all his advances and had sent a bullet up the chain of command. Lieutenant Colonel John Farrow, United States Marine Corps had been summarily dismissed, stripped of his rank and had served two years in Leavenworth for sexual harassment. "You have a relationship with a certain Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr?"

"Ma'am?" This was highly irregular questioning, Mac thought. _What was Captain Albanesi hinting at?_

"What I want to know, Major, is whether it will affect your work here or not?" Captain Albanesi's face looked as though it was carved out of the same hard rock as Mt. Rushmore, and probably less forgiving either. "I have no problems with interpersonal relationship between officers, however it becomes my business when I have to deal with the personal fall-out. So if you are co-habitating, please keep your personal business at home."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Mac replied; feeling no less nervous than before the inquisition.

"Yes, ma'am in that it will affect your work here? Or Yes Ma'am that personal business will be kept at home?" Captain Albanesi questioned.

"No, Ma'am to the first, Yes, Ma'am to the second." Mac stated succinctly.

"Good. Now if you'll be so kind, please send Lieutenant Nakamura in on your way out." Captain Albanesi stated with finality, the tone of dismissal clear in her voice as she turned to put down the file. Raising her hand index finger extended vertically "One more thing though before you leave. I've talked to Admiral Chegwidden…" she paused for a moment while mid-turn. "…regarding the TDY and the fact that we are extremely short-handed here. He has agreed to turn your TDY into a permanent transfer…" the last was dropped like a seventeen ton boulder into a calm pool of water.

Nope…the quiet revelation that hit Mac was like the explosion at White Sands, July 16, 1945. It was a shocker of 10kT magnitude.

"You will be given two weeks leave to return to Falls Church and tidy things up so that you can assume your new duty station." What could Mac say to that? A chance to make a go of it here with her friends and most importantly, with Harm? Sure it was a risk; maybe things wouldn't work out with Harm, then where would she be? But you didn't get anywhere without trying. And one thing was for certain, Uncle Matt certainly didn't raise a chicken.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"How you dispense with those matters regarding your move is completely up to you, Major. If you require more time, please make me aware of that. That will be all." The captain spoke firmly as she gazed at Mac.

"Yes Ma'am."

"Now you may send Lieutenant Nakamura in. Dismissed."

A stunned Major Mackenzie left Captain Albanesi's office and she wandered over to Meg's office in a daze. When she arrived there, she managed to work her mouth long enough to mention to Meg that Meg was required to make her presence known in the Commanding Officer's office, then she made her way to her temporary now permanent office to sit herself down on the chair.

While Mac was having mental gyrations over the bombshell dropped on her, Meg made her way to Captain Albanesi's office.

"Come in. Lieutenant." Meg walked in and stood at attention in front of the commanding officer's desk while Captain Albanesi looked over at her. "So…Lieutenant, it appears that the deep-selection committee for O-4 has met and come to their conclusions."

"Ma'am?" Meg was wondering why her CO was imparting this bit of information to her.

"You are aware that only 10% of the highest rated officers get deep-selected two years before their peers?" Captain Maria Albanesi's look was smug as she sat down in her chair. "These officers are considered the cream of the crop in the United States Navy."

"No, Ma'am, I wasn't aware of that." Meg was becoming more and more confused even though with the amount of time that she'd been there, she was well aware of Captain Albanesi's enjoyment of throwing her subordinates off-balance. It was also her best tactic of teaching her subordinates that when their opponents were off-balance, that was when they had the tactical advantage in the court-room.

"Well…Lieutenant Megan Austin Nakamura…you appear to be out of uniform!" Captain Albanesi raised an eyebrow and gave her a critical stare but gradually that critical stare subsided to a smug smile.

"Ma'am…this Lieutenant does not understand." Meg was now thoroughly confused.

"Well, Lieutenant Commander, you should be wearing two and a half stripes for one." If possible, Captain Albanesi's smile grew even more smug. UOD was whites with shoulderboards at least at the JAG office to differentiate from the nasal radiators in peanut butters and fart-sacks that that seemed to infest the base, Captain Albanesi thought. But then again her current best attorney was married to the head nasal radiator on base who out-ranked her by two-stars versus her eagle. She almost burst out in laughter as the young Lieutenant, now Lieutenant Commander looked absolutely stunned.

"You're not kidding me, are you, Ma'am?" Meg asked thoroughly flummoxed as she tried to decipher this new bombshell of a promotion broached to her in the most unconventional way possible. But she knew for a fact that Captain Albanesi was unconventional to the hilt even when she was by-the-book.

"No…Lieutenant Commander Nakamura. You'd better get yourself to a PX and get your uniform all straightened out. I expect to see proper rank shoulder-boards on your uniform by 0830hrs." She smiled "Get on it. Lieutenant Commander!"

"Aye-Aye, ma'am."

_**JAG HQ, Falls Church, VA 0910hrs EST**_

"Dammit!" RADM AJ Chegwidden muttered to himself as he read over the permanent transfer orders for one Major Sarah Mackenzie. "Looks like we lost another attorney." Picking up the phone, he snapped out. "Tiner! Get me BuPERS, I want files for every single JAG on the East Coast that I can get assigned to Falls Church to replace both Lieutenant Nakamura and Major Mackenzie." He didn't even bother to wait for the inevitable _Major Mackenzie got transferred _exclamation from Tiner before hanging up.

_**FRTC TACTS Range 3, Fallon, NV 0610hrs PST**_

The two F-5E Tiger IIs flew welded wing formation as they entered the TACTS range. The calm sand browns of the Dixie Valley blended into a soft blur as the high speed of the Tiger II ate up the miles. The cockpit of the VFC-13 Saints F-5E Tiger II was simplistic. Just standard analogue instruments (dials and gauges) no LED displays except for one in the centre and that was usually turned to the Emerson Electric AN/APQ-159 radar. Other than that, target acquisition was usually visual. So both Harm and Animal had to keep their heads on a swivel. Their altitude was fifteen thousand AGL. Hard-deck was ten so they were practically on the floor. They were searching for a few F/A-18s. They had a combined Navy/Marine class and the Marines tended to jump in on the combat "to the Shores of Tripoli" style all hands forward, while the Navy aviators chose to hang back and watch. Either way Animal and/or his fellow instructors for the first few hops administered some nasty spankings on the students just to wizen them up about diving into the battle with their hair on fire and their brains in off-mode or what Animal liked to call "flying stupid".

The balancing act of the Strike Fighter Weapons syllabus was to not demoralize the students by overwhelming them, but to gradually allow them to get wins so that they knew what the correct method was to protecting oneself, to protecting one's wingmen and to achieve air superiority over the enemy and that was accomplished by the slow steady weeding out of mistakes and hammering in proper procedure by increasingly difficult 1 or 2 vs. unknowns. That was why the instructors did the hammering for the first few hops, then as the students progressed and approached graduation; it was the instructors that were getting routinely hammered. That meant one thing. The instructors were doing their job. You had to have a pretty tough ego to get hammered routinely. And the instructors who stayed in this position were the ones who knew how to table their egos so that they could be effective instructors. There was no place for an egomaniac in Naval Strike Air Weapons Centre and Animal got rid of those instructors quickly.

This class was around the midway point in their syllabus and they were routinely getting wins here and there. And of course, that meant that some of the kids got cocky. At about this point in the syllabus, Animal liked to throw in a haymaker called the "mid-course cold shower". That was the instructors' way of saying "Hey there, silly padawan, you still got some learnin' to do." That was when the instructors turned the tables on the students and beat 'em up badly in ACM which brought the students' cockiness to a screeching halt. The intention was to make them think about their cockiness and the simple fact that if they got too big for their britches and did not give serious attention to the threat their opponents posed, the students would "get dead". Needless to say, that corrected the majority of the students who had the ego problem. Those who didn't got mustered out of the NSAWC program. There was no room for ego at all in any facet of the training and there was even less tolerance out in the fleet. Cockiness had to be tempered with combat smarts or all you got was a dead aviator.

Animal's woolgathering was tempered by constant looks at the radar. And Animal was reassured of Harm's alertness when he called out. "Bogey 2, Bogey 1, 3 contacts bearing 190, 1200 knots closure."

"Roger. Up for a look-see?" Animal replied smugly as he chuckled evilly.

"Looks like they're F/A-18s." Harm replied. They could see three grey dots in the distance as the dots grew closer.

Animal had deliberately planned this flight this way. The three cockiest students would be in this flight of three F/A-18s. The reason why he wanted there to only be two Aggressor aircraft was that this was technically the bait. Not knowing that the F-5E Tiger IIs were rattlesnakes to the three students' mice, the mice would jump on the bait and get struck…hard. And Animal and Harm would thus impart a lesson to the students that superiority in numbers did not equal superiority in skill and superiority in skill depending on the number differential would always win out. Of course that didn't translate to being "vastly outnumbered" in which case the only sensible solution would be to turn tail and run.

"I thought this was a two versus two?" Harm said. "We're out numbered."

"Watch and learn, Padawan." Animal said as he saw the nose of the lead F/A-18 turn towards him. "Defensive split…NOW!" At that Harm broke right, Animal broke left. As Animal thought, the "bruised banana" was too tempting to pass up. All three F/A-18s broke left to follow Harm.

"Ah…Harm." Animal radioed casually. "Looks like you got some playmates."

"NO SHIT!" Animal chuckled hearing Harm's frantic epithet. He could tell Harm still wasn't comfortable yet with the instructor's role, but that would change.

Executing a high-yoyo, Animal reversed direction and dropped in behind the last trailing F/A-18C, which just about freaked out when he heard a kill-tone not two seconds later, followed by the second F/A-18C.

"Guess what…boys. You're dead. RTB." Animal chuckled evilly on the UHF. The last F/A-18C's aviator frantically looked around for the second F-5E that had killed his mates and frantically started breaking.

"Hard left. Harm, then barrel roll it!" As Animal snapped out the command, Harm instinctively broke hard left, yanked his stick and high-g barrel-rolled over the F/A-18 whose aviator looked up to see the bruised banana flash over his canopy as the F/A-18C overshot his mark and ended up forced out in front. A kill tone sounded in his earphones not two seconds later as Harm brought the nose of his aircraft onto the F/A-18C and killed him with a TACTS Atoll.

"Knock it off, knock it off, knock it off. Fight's over, guys. Form on my wing. Let's RTB. All three F/A-18Cs and the two F-5E Tiger IIs formed up and flew back down Dixie Valley and back home towards Fallon Naval Air Station.

After landing and shutdown, the crews debriefed. Needless to say, the students were subdued as Animal rattled off what they had done wrong and what could potentially be done to fix that. The problem was that they bore-sighted on a target failing to realize that there was a second aircraft in that flight. They had remembered the _stick with your wingman_ mantra to the detriment of their entire flight. By the end of the debrief the students were nodding like bobble-heads to Animal's every admonition of "do you understand?" The three Hornet students couldn't wait to get out of debrief and get away from the instructors.

Poor Harm looked overwhelmed too. _For many years he was in a JAG position and now back in the cockpit it seemed like he was backed up a step in every ACM situation that he was in_. He wondered if he could truly make it back and be a top-notch instructor like his mentor. For all the enjoyment that he had, being back in the cockpit was tempered by the knowledge that he needed to learn more to be more effective as an instructor.

"Don't worry." Animal commented as he looked commiserating at his wingman. "Harm, The first two days of your training were going over the flight manual for the F-5E on ground, so technically you've been only back in the cockpit for three days now. You'll catch on quickly enough." Harm hoped that was the case and that Animal's exuberance over his efforts was true. "Go with the flow, shipmate." He grinned. "You're doing just fine. The learning curve is enormous, but you'll get over the hump."

_**Naval Health Branch, NAS Fallon, NV, Follow-up Checkup.**_

"Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander." LCDR Takata looked up as Meg entered the examination room.

"It was sudden, I wasn't expecting the promotion. The CO called me into her office today and dropped this bombshell on me. A very welcome bit of news but bombshell nonetheless." Meg grinned back at her OB/GYN. The procedure was the same, a rather private examination, and assessment of her growth around the middle area. Gestation was eight weeks in and Meg found herself ravenous. It was lucky for her hubby to eat at the mess-hall or he wouldn't be able to finish a breakfast without Meg swiping three-quarters of the food. There was a benefit to being the NSAWC commander; the culinary specialists were kept on their toes. They made sure that the CO had his early morning breakfast. And they also made sure that LCDR Meg Nakamura was kept fed. Meg sighed to herself. She was going to be the size of the Goodyear blimp by the time her pregnancy was over.

"Meg, we are going to do first-trimester genetic screening, You'll have your ultrasound at eleven weeks gestation so I'm going to send in for the ultrasound and in about 2 and a half weeks you should be getting notified of when you're supposed to get in to see them. Unfortunately you'll have to assign this to TRI-CARE as NAS Fallon doesn't have an ultrasound machine available at the moment. We have to use civilian resources. Hence the assignations to civilian health care for those who are pregnant." LCDR Takata stated as she scrawled her referral on her referral form pad.

"Luckily my husband gets his paycheck next week, so we'll be able to put the money upfront. We're looking at about $2500.00 for an ultrasound screening, is that about correct?" Meg asked Joanne hoping that she was roughly in the ball-park for the cost.

"Oh…not that much." Joanne stated, grinning at Meg. "But it is costly. Look at having about $450-600 on hand to get that done."

"Oh, goody." Meg said smugly thinking of how much her husband's jaw was going to drop. "I can eat the rest on food." The two laughed uproariously at the ludicrous idea of Meg eating almost $1400.00 worth of food in one sitting. "You know, I've been having this absolutely horrendous appetite and the desire to eat a burger heaped with three patties of beef with mustard, ketchup and pickles...as well as a heaping helping of pickled baby onions and garlic. I swear the last time I made an order like that, poor hubby turned green."

"Oh, it happens." Joanne laughed. "It's something to do with hormones…"

_**Harm & Mac's Home; 714 Noel Ln, Fallon, NV**_

Harm had slipped out of his flightsuit when he had gotten home. For Mac it was rather disconcerting to see Harm in his flight suit all the time for the past week, but she was slowly starting to get used to the sight. It was just nice to see Harm back in his element and she was happy for him that he was back flying again. The bonus was the fact that it brought the two of them together.

Harm though was shocked when she said. "Harm, I have to go back to Falls Church for two weeks."

"What?" he asked, his shock clearly written all over his face. "…but…I thought you were TDY here for three months?"

"Well, circumstances have changed, darling flyboy." She leaned in kissing him squarely on the lips to silence his questions. "The two weeks is for leave to square away my things and get them ready to move out here…" She felt his jaw drop open under her lips. _Well, that certainly shocked him_.

"…out here?" he asked in shock…could he hope?

"Yes…Harm…out here…I don't know what dirt Captain Albanesi has on the Admiral, but he consented to permanently assigning me here." Mac laughed as a look of confusion, then overwhelming love and contentment burst over Harm's face as he gathered her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly breathless.

Much later, as they looked at each other, their accelerated heartbeats subsiding to normal beats per minute, she murmured softly to Harm as she stroked patterns in the hairs on his chest. "This is now OUR home for certain."

_**Meg & Animal's Home, 4700 Pasture Rd, NAS Fallon, Fallon, NV**_

Meg was in civilian clothes already, cooking dinner as Animal's car turned into the driveway. A few minutes later, the doorknob turned as her husband came in the front door to the home. Not long after he came into the kitchen, greeting his wife with a passionate kiss. "Hey, hon." He grinned at her. "Master Guns told me you left him a message that you went home after the doctor's appointment. Are you alright?"

"Oh, just fine. Hungry as heck though." She drawled looking at her husband.

"Well, whatever you're making, it smells good." Animal replied.

Meg turned to give the food another stir then turned back in her husband's arms to give him a kiss in return. "Hey, why don't you go get changed then we can have dinner." She gave him a little smirk as she tapped his nose. "I'm hungry and I don't want to wait for dinner too long, that's why I started it forty-five minutes ago."

Animal nodded as he let go of his wife and headed for the bedroom to strip out of his flightsuit. Luckily he had several more. He made sure that he had some other flight-suits for the following week as there was a three vs. unknowns hop on Monday. Then something incongruous captured his eyes. It was his wife's uniforms. He reached in and separated the uniforms so that he could get a better look: his wife's whites had two and a half stripes. He wasn't seeing things. And all Meg's khaki uniforms had gold oak leaves on the collars. A grin fit to bust his face in two transformed his face as he walked back out to the kitchen. A startled 'oh' from his wife escaped her as Animal leaned his face into hers as he grabbed her and gave her an absolutely passionate kiss.

"Congratulations…on your promotion…" Animal grinned at her when he had finished kissing Meg absolutely senseless.

"Thank you…" she gasped catching her breath. "I love you…" she whispered softly as their eyes locked on each other. "hmmm. Dinner's done, sweetheart."

It was a quick meal, delicious though it was, as the two wanted to get to other things more enjoyable.


	8. Sir, Can I Have Some Leave

_**AN: Chapter is almost entirely SMUT and boring activities…you have been warned. If you are underage…go play Pokemon or something and skip this chapter. To borrow a Star Wars quote: This isn't the SMUT you are looking for; move along…move along…**_

_**Meg & Animal's Home, 4700 Pasture Rd, NAS Fallon, Fallon, NV, Next Morning**_

The early morning sun invaded the couple's bedroom as they slept intertwined; the sheets covering their forms. The eventual warmth of the orb over one hundred forty nine point six million miles away caused the male form to finally stir. Stretching, he opened one rather sleepy eye and peered at the form slumbering next to him curled up like spoons, along the contour of his body. At eight weeks, his wife, who was lying beside him, had what some would consider a slightly distended abdomen; what most people considered a baby-bump. It barely looked as though she was pregnant, but it was noticeable. Reaching across her sleeping form he caressed her abdomen and in response, Meg sighed and nestled in even closer to him. He smiled softly as she sighed in contentment. Considering how tired he was, he looked over at the alarm-clock, of which the alarm had been shut off so that it wouldn't disturb their rest – what little they got that night. He smiled again at the memory of their amorous exercises the previous night, then curled back, his nose buried in Meg's hair, drinking in her scent and went promptly back to sleep.

The next time his eyes popped open, his eyes met two mischievous-looking blue ones staring right back at him and her hand had reached under the sheets, doing something of which he could see the result of…under said sheets, then she coaxed him on his side, her hand still caressing and massaging, then swiftly turned her back to him, pushing herself back on the top of him, begging him softly but with a throaty whimper to enter her. As he complied, she thrust back pulling him deep within her. Moaning softly, Meg felt her husband thrust into her over and over again.

"Please…sweetie…" she begged him softly to make her go over the edge. "Oh God…yes…" She thanked the fact that they had been so vigorous in their amorous exercising last night as it took her husband a long time to fulfill her request as she let out a shuddering moan as her muscles clenched around him. With one last thrust, she could hear him groan audibly, feeling him shudder as he gripped her hips with his hands, thrusting forward with his hips against her…letting go deep within her, the warmth filling her inside. She smiled softly as his climax seemed to go on for a few more seconds, filling her with his seed. She wiggled her rear a little trying to drive him deeper inside. "Oh…yes…" she murmured softly as she leaned back to look at him, satiated for the moment. "I love you, Tosh…" she sighed contentedly as she felt her husband's chest against her back; he was content to stay where he was. When he could catch his breath, her husband whispered back.

"I love you so much, Meg."

With first pregnancies, most couples were unsure of what was to come. The couples usually didn't know that sex was not frowned upon, even up to the latter stages of pregnancy. There wasn't any way to dislodge a fetus attached to the uterus wall through frantic bucking during intercourse. In fact, it wasn't even certain if the fetus could feel anything other than a comfortable rocking motion if even that. The only thing that Meg's OB/GYN said was to listen to her body. If some position hurt, that it might be wise to discontinue that particular positioning until after the pregnancy had gone full-term and she had given birth.

"Tosh, Love?" Meg's questioning look interrupted Animal's woolgathering, still intimately joined.

"What?" Animal inquired looking at her, his brown eyes filled with affection and love.

"I need to get up." She said simply.

"Why?" he asked looking rather disappointed.

Meg grinned at him. "I'd like to stay like this for the whole day, but I really have to take care of a problem."

"What problem is that?" he asked.

"Something really urgent." Meg paused melodramatically… "I need to pee."

_**Harm & Mac's Home; 714 Noel Ln, Fallon, NV**_

Harm looked over at Mac as they were getting dressed. "So, I guess that means a ticket back to Falls Church." He said looking wistful at Mac for a long moment and then his eyes lit up. Mac was certain that he had an idea percolating in there. "You know my biplane?" He said. "It's still at Blacksburg with Pop. I was thinking about bringing it out west. I can figure out the trip plan now and when we get to Falls Church and take care of what you need to bring out with you, then I can fly us back. Mind you, you'll need some warm flying gear."

"Yeah…" Mac wondered if her beau had lost his mind or something. The last time that they had flown together, they had gone down in a clearing and had been chased around by poachers…and on top of that she had been shot. That was a fun experience, sarcastically speaking. But then she realized that this would be a terrific way to get to know Harm's love of his biplane and she opened up to the idea. "I don't know why I'm agreeing to this after getting shot at the last time we went up. I mean the scar is still there." She muttered acerbically, but Harm knew that in the tone there was a hint of desire to fly again with him. "All right." She grinned at him. "I'll do it."

"Well, at least your stomach is getting used to the idea of flying." Harm grinned at her.

"But you'd better get a hold of your CO and find out if you can do this. Because I have to catch a flight out of here Monday night and you're gonna have to get your one way ticket. Meanwhile let me see if I can convert the one I bought to a one-way so I can get a refund."

_**Meg & Animal's Home, 4700 Pasture Rd, NAS Fallon, Fallon, NV,**_

The shower was running as Meg ducked her head under the water, soaking her hair and making rivulets of hot water run down her body. A blast of cooler air caused her to shiver slightly as her husband joined her in the shower. "Took care of the _problem_?" he asked as Meg looked up at him through wet lashes and grinned at him nodding.

"So…what brings you into my nice warm shower?" she teased him.

"A very naked and tempting woman; a seductress." Animal teased back as Meg ran her eyes over his naked body. Evidently he was reacting to the closeness of her unclothed body.

"Oh, really, do I know her?" She said waggling her eyebrows, then gasped as Animal fastened his mouth over hers, as the water cascaded over their bodies. She brought her body close to his, her wet skin tantalizing him, teasing him, as he groaned, the sound against her lips. Intertwining her legs around his waist as Animal gripped her by her firm derriere, she slid onto him again, sighing in deep contentment as he filled her sheath with his length and started thrusting. The massaging water caused her blood to heat up as they made love in the shower. _Lucky there's a rubber mat on the tub floor so we're not slipping around _she thought as her mind turned to absolute mush. Her husband's hands tangled in her sodden hair, her mouth questing impatiently against her husband's mouth, their tongues dueling.

"Oh…Meg…" Animal groaned against her lips.

"MMmmmm." …was all Meg sighed as she kept squeezing her pelvic muscles against his length as he thrusted against her. The cascade of sensations flowing through her rendered her speechless.

It took a while, but Meg saw stars as her climax overwhelmed her senses and she clamped down on Animal's shoulder with her teeth to keep herself from screaming. As soon as he felt Meg's orgasm, Animal went over with her, spurting life-giving semen flooding into her womb, the warmth filling her yet again for the second time that morning.

She murmured once she could speak coherently. "If I wasn't pregnant already." Meg whispered in Animal's ear as the shower poured over them. "I'd say that would do it. Love you so much…" as she nibbled his earlobe and bit down on it gently. She looked down at his shoulder. "Oooh, there's a mark."

"Hmmm…a little minx, are you?" Animal grinned at her as she gave him a loving smirk. This was a weekend ritual for the two of them; intimacy in the shower and a slow washing as they enjoyed each other's bodies. And Animal enjoyed being able to wash his wife's hair for her as they stood, legs intertwined and their bodies intimately close to each other. Meg enjoyed these weekends spent with her husband. She was carrying their child and the intimate closeness of these weekends made it seem even more real that she was pregnant, had a husband and that they were able to enjoy these moments together.

_**Harm & Mac's Home; 714 Noel Ln, Fallon, NV; Much Later**_

"So…" Harm said on the phone to his CO.

"What?" Animal's voice sounded a little tied up. "What did you need?"

"Well…um…I need two weeks vacation." Harm asked, wincing.

"You just got here!" Animal growled.

"Well, it's just that Mac needs to get things prepped to make her move permanently out here."

"Permanently? She got transferred out here?" Animal's tone was incredulous.

"Yes, sir. Seems Captain Albanesi pulled some strings to get Mac a transfer."

"Well, that explains Mac needing two weeks vacation which I presume she got from her commanding officer." Animal grumbled. "But that doesn't explain why YOU need two weeks."

"You remember Sarah, right?"

_**Meg & Animal's Home, 4700 Pasture Rd, NAS Fallon, Fallon, NV**_

"Yeah…" Animal's mind wasn't clicking…probably due to Meg dressed only in his shirt evilly rubbing her bare thigh up against his shorts clad groin as they were standing in the kitchen area making breakfast. He mouthed the word silently. "_tease_" as Meg grinned at him. "But what does Mac have to do with it?"

_**Harm & Mac's Home; 714 Noel Ln, Fallon, NV;**_

"No…Sarah…my Stearman…"

"Yeah…that flying deathtrap?" Animal muttered, as Meg giggled. Animal never did like that thing.

Harm sounded insulted. "Well…next time don't expect me to offer to take you up in her."

"Harm, you know me and open cockpit do not mesh well…trust me. I won't expect it. I like the feeling of the canopy preventing me from making a Rorschach impression on the ground…" Animal retorted. "So you're going to fly that rattletrap out West?" he paused a moment. "Is THAT why you want two weeks leave?" He asked acerbically.

"Well, sir, I can't leave her out there in Blacksburg, sir. There'll be no one to set her up for winter and the desert will be much easier on her airframe than her staying out in Blacksburg. She'll be much happier" Harm stated as he grinned at Mac. He knew Animal could care less about how happy Harm's Stearman would be in Fallon. "And Mac and I will be flying her back."

"Well, hopefully you can fly that bucket of bolts back within two weeks time." Animal said. "Leave granted, but trust me, that might earn you another two months in the bruised banana. You're gonna be flying with me a lot when you get back. Fax me the paperwork right now and I'll have it approved by Monday morning."

"Yes, sir! Aye-aye sir." Harm replied smartly over the telephone.

"Yeah, three bags full, Rabb." Animal snorted and hung up.

Harm looked over at Mac who raised her eyebrow in question and lifted a thumbs-up. Now they just needed to coordinate it so that they could get on the same flight together to Falls Church Monday evening.

Mac leaned in to Harm and gave him a kiss that Harm could feel to his toes. "Better get the ticket so you can fly with me to Falls Church, sweetheart." Mac said as she turned and walked to the bedroom to change into something other than the sweatpants and t-shirt that they were in to lounge around the house with. "We need to go to the travel agent and get something to eat. I'm hungry and there's nothing in the fridge."

_**Meg & Animal's Home, 4700 Pasture Rd, NAS Fallon, Fallon, NV,**_

"So…what do you want to do…other than stay in bed and explore all the facets of fornication?" Meg teased Animal.

"Well…I do have to say _exploring all the facets_…sounds like an interesting plan." Her husband leered at her while she snickered.

"Well, as much as I'd like that, I'm hungry. We need to get some decent groceries at the commissary. Or I'll be stealing all your lunches." Meg smirked at him.

Animal looked at her as if he was weighing the options then promptly got up and headed for the bedroom to go change into something that he could be seen outdoors in. Meg grinned as she followed him to the bedroom.

As he changed, he noticed her gaze on him. "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked.

"Hmmm…just admiring my husband." She grinned as she grabbed some clothes of her own.

The base commissary wasn't too far up the road and Animal and Meg headed out to the car to go up to there. The base commissary was a large mall-style building located just out the gate of the base proper. If one was off-duty, there was no need to wear a uniform to go to the commissary, just had to carry one's military ID.

When they got there, it was relatively easy to find a parking space. Animal and Meg locked the door of their car and walked over to the door of the commissary.

Once inside the grocery store was packed. It seemed everyone was in buying food. Meg looked at Animal raising. "We should have gone to a fast food place. Oh, we're getting something to eat, preferably at a fast food place after this." Animal grinned at her. "No…you don't want to see me hungry." She grumbled. "'cause you're gonna be sleeping on the couch…if I don't get fed soon." At Animal's burst of laughter which startled two Chiefs in uniform who snapped to attention upon seeing the NSAWC command Admiral in civvies which caused Animal to have to say…

"As you were, continue on with your shopping, Chiefs!" he grinned at the two chiefs and then looked back to see a pathetic pout on Meg's face which enveloped him in another paroxysm of laughter.

"Oh, that does it…" muttered Meg with a semi-petulant expression on her face. "You're sooo sleeping on the couch, buster."

Animal opted the better course of action was to leave the grocery shopping for later and find his beloved a fast-food place to get some food. Luckily there was one close-by.

Meg had an absolutely blissful expression on her face as she bit into a three-patty burger loaded with pickles, onions and relish…mustard and garlic. "Oh…this is soooooo good." Animal looked kind of green around the gills. He hated onions and mustard and garlic wasn't something that came on his radar when it came to burgers unless it was Dijon Aioli mustard. Meg, noticing his expression of disgust on her choice of toppings for the burger, narrowed her eyes. "Don't think this gets you out of sleeping on the couch, mister."

It was just recently that Animal found out that NEXCOM had signed a three year deal with Starbucks and he was looking over at the Starbucks longingly thinking that he'd really like a mocha frappuccino.

_**NAS Fallon Starbucks, NAS Fallon, NV**_

Not far away in that same Starbucks, Harm sat with Mac as she downed a venti mocha with three shots of espresso. That was so going to wire the Marine, Harm thought as he sipped his chai and enjoyed a breakfast egg sandwich.

"Too bad there wasn't a Beltway Burgers." Mac said. "Cause I could sure use a burger right now. I'm so going to miss Beltway Burgers when I move out here for good."

Harm thought to himself that no matter how disgusting those burgers were he was going to treat HIS Marine to a meal at Beltway when they got back to Falls Church for the two weeks it was going to take to get her all packed and ready to go. As far as Mac was concerned, two changes of clothes were all she needed to take with her from Fallon back to DC. This was mainly because the rest of her wardrobe was there and she could add to it. Putting the apartment on the rental market would help subsidize her pocketbook and considering the fact that Animal had comically mentioned that he was looking the _other way_, enabled her to make some money as her rooming with Harm would help save her money which would have otherwise have been spent on renting a home of her own.

"So…do you have an idea of what we're going to do first when we head back to DC?" Harm asked her.

"I'm going to check the moving companies and see how much it costs to ship the entire apartment contents over. The costs will be for providing the boxes needed and the packing materials for anything fragile. You can give me a hand with regards to that." Mac assured him as she grinned. "A sojourn in the desert. It'll be fun." She said referring to her transfer to JAG RLSO Southwest.

Harm grinned back at her as he said. "I'm glad you're transferring out here…" he said to her. "It's nice to be out here thanks to Animal…and now having you out here is the icing on the cake."

Mac gave him a look of feigned shock. "Oh? Is the famous Rabb reticence to speak of feelings crumbling?" she asked softly. "Well, if so, I'm glad, because I'm happy to be transferred out here to Nevada…because I get to spend the off-duty time I have with you."

Harm reached over and laid his hand on top of hers. "I'm glad you're here with me…" he replied to candid admission of happiness. "Now we need to stop in at that travel agency and get those tickets so we can hop on that plane on Monday." Mac beamed at the eagerness that sounded in Harm's voice.

_**Base Commissary, NAS Fallon, NV**_

Finally after Meg's hunger for food was satiated, Animal and Meg got to the nitty-gritty of finding their groceries for the next two weeks. "Bananas…strawberries. We definitely need strawberries. I'm going to have some for breakfast tomorrow morning sliced up with my oatmeal." Meg insisted as she picked up a covered tray of strawberries from the display and a bunch of bananas. The fruits helped to ease the stomach when she had her nausea in the morning. Before they had gotten married, Animal's idea of food was grabbing a box of hamburger helper, a plat of ground beef and chowing down after both ingredients were mixed. Meg, on the other hand, was a gourmand who could take the most obscure ingredients and cook them into a delicious meal.

Animal barely winced when he found out that their commissary bill came to about $250.00 for the week but the fact that Meg was able to turn those disparate ingredients into a mouthwatering meal made it all worthwhile. "Hey…sweetheart." He turned to Meg who looked over at him. "Stop into Starbucks before we head home?"

"Ah…the weekend frappuccino?" Meg smirked at him.

"Yes…" Animal nodded.

"Only if you get me one too." Meg nudged his shoulder with her own.

"Yes, dear."

_**NSAWC Commander's Office, NSAWC, NAS Fallon, NV, Monday Morning**_

"Lieutenant Commander Rabb." Animal looked over at Harm. Both were in khakis; Harm with the gold oak leaves on his collars, Animal with the two stars on each collar. Since Harm was a line-officer now instead of a JAG staff officer, he wore two Lieutenant Commander collar rank on his khaki collars. "I've got your request for two weeks leave. How many weeks have you accumulated in the past five years? Looks like you've got a pile of weeks here."

"I haven't taken any leave, sir." Harm replied. "The only leave I've taken is my convalescent leave from when I had the ramp-strike, sir."

"Well, I see you have plenty banked if necessary." Animal replied. "So…two weeks, I should expect you back here at Fallon? If you need more time, just ask. I should be able to let you have another week if it's absolutely necessary. But keep in mind, you need to make sure that we're not left hanging here. Your NSAWC IP slot is crucial to the operation of this command. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Dismissed." Animal said as Harm came to attention smartly and about-faced towards the door. "Oh…Lieutenant Commander." Animal cleared his throat. "Hope you've found a place to hangar her…and you can fly her on the weekends. Just don't invite me. I like my carcass…the way it is…not splattered all over the Sonoran desert."

"Yes, sir."

_**Harm & Mac's Home; 714 Noel Ln, Fallon, NV; Monday Afternoon**_

Harm heard the honking of the taxi outside the Noel Lane home. "Mac, Taxi's here!" he called out as he grabbed his luggage.

"OK…" Mac replied as she came out with her own luggage. One carry-on was all she carried, as did Harm. Since they'd be packing up two apartments and shipping the contents over, they had opted to put three changes of clothes into each carry-on and make sure that they had access to a washer/dryer for the two weeks that they would be there. Carrying too many clothes back to Washington with them was a redundancy that neither could afford to do. They would be flying from Reno to Washington - Ronald Reagan on a direct flight that cost almost four hundred dollars. Exiting the house, Harm locked the door and they walked together towards the taxi. The taxi-driver opened the trunk so Harm could load their carry-on luggage and Harm shut the trunk once the luggage was loaded. Getting into the taxi he said. "Reno International Airport – we need to be there by 6:30PM." Their flight was at 8:35PM. He wanted to make sure that they were there in enough time so that they could board their flight without problems.

"Sure thing, boss." The taxi-driver said as he locked the doors and pulled out of the driveway.

_**Reno-Tahoe International Airport, Reno, NV: 0615hrs**_

Harm noted the domestic terminal as they pulled up in the taxi. "Thanks!" he said as he got out, paying the fare and adding a thirty dollar tip to the fare.

"Thank you very much, boss." The taxi-driver said as he got out and helped them with the carry-ons, then got back into his taxi to pick up his next fare.

"So…ready to head back to Washington and grab the things that we need to? Ninja-girl?" Harm grinned at Mac.

"I think I'm just going to sleep on the plane for now…and I'll decide what I need to do to get packed up when we arrive…" she nudged him in the shoulder. "Mind if we sleep at my place? It's still not packed up. What about your place?"

"I think I'm going to have to make sure that place is dealt with too." Harm said as he furrowed his brows in thought. "I have a feeling that this sojourn in the desert will be a while…" he didn't say_…and I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts _but Mac knew what he was thinking.

Heading to the ticket-counter, they checked in to make sure that they were accounted for on the passenger list. Then they headed for a restaurant to get something to eat prior to boarding the plane. The food and eating took at least an hour and they wandered through the gates at 8:00 PM sharp going through the TSA check-in screenings so that they could sit and wait for their flight to board. About 30 minutes later, their flight was called so that they could board their flight bound for Washington National – Ronald Reagan Airport in Washington DC. Their aircraft was a 757-200 that flew domestic routes and it was typical economy class seating three-three seating with the aisle in the middle.

After the final boarding call it was soon after that the 757-200 was pushed back from the air-bridge onto the tarmac for an engine start. Harm sat in his seat, his left hand gripping Mac's right hand as Mac looked over at Harm and smiled. He hated flying when he wasn't at the controls. As a matter of fact, most experienced pilots did. At least when he flew, he was responsible for bringing himself down safely. Whereas flying by human cargo tube with wings, you put your life in the hands of another pilot whom you had no clue whether or not they had the experience to get you up and down safely.

"Relax…" Mac grinned despite her own trepidation. "We're gonna be fine…"


	9. New Beginnings

_**Reno-Tahoe International Airport, Reno, NV: 2005hrs**_

The thrust of the two Rolls-Royce RB211-535E4B engines pushed them back in their seats as the Boeing 757-200 started its take-off roll down the runway. Mac's hands seemed to grasp Harm's a little tighter. She still wasn't used to aircraft and clenched jaw and tense posture in the airliner's seat gave her uneasiness away. It wasn't aviophobia, nor was it severe enough to prevent her from getting onto a plane, but it was the fact that Harm wasn't at the controls that made getting onto the plane such a uneasy feeling. The fact that her life could be in the hands of someone else, regardless of how experienced, was not something the Marine liked to experience.

The tender squeeze of her held hand brought her out of that train of thought as she looked over to see Harm giving her a smile and another reassuring squeeze of her hand. _Thank goodness for civilian clothes_, she thought as she returned his smile and relaxed her posture from the previously tense one. As the B757 banked towards the north-east, Harm pointed out the window since they were sitting on the starboard side that Pyramid Lake was visible. Watching the view out the window was also a way of distracting themselves from the nervousness of flying. Most pilots didn't like being in a passenger aircraft piloted by another pilot and this naval aviator was no different.

The aircraft continued its bank and then straightened when the aircraft felt like it was heading due east. The long pull-out made Harm look out the window to see south towards the range that Fallon used to fly their ACM missions over the Mojave desert. The B757 was now pointed directly towards Washington DC and their flight would take four hours and ten minutes owing to a 30 knot tailwind blowing due east. During the late fall and winter, the _westerlies_ helped flying aircraft gain some airspeed and time flying from west to east. Harm tried his best to settle in but his nerves kept telling him that it would have been a damned sight better if he had been the one with stick and throttle in his hands. Too bad he couldn't have ferried an F-14 over but that would have prevented Harm from being able to fly both Sarahs back from DC.

Harm tried to relax, leaning back into his seat, and forced his eyes closed so that he could get some shut-eye before the Boeing landed at Washington – Ronald Reagan.

_**USS Gainsville, Naval Station Norfolk, Norfolk, VA 2100hrs**_

"Chief wants to see you." The gruff voice of ET1 Brouwer growled at Electronics Technician Seaman Apprentice Jennifer Coates who bristled back, her back up. She really didn't want to be here. But it was either the Navy or jail. "I don't know what it's about; so don't ask."

Coates sighed heavily as she looked up at Brouwer to see if he was actually telling the truth, but seeing no evidence of subterfuge, she shrugged her shoulders and said. "OK…I'll go and see him." Stalking down the corridor, she avoided the knee-knockers on board and braced herself, knocking on the door of the Chief's office. "Chief, ETSA Jennifer Coates…"

"Come in, ETSA Coates. It seems as though the CO wants you to gain some more experience…somewhere else other than on this ship." Chief Bentley looked at her uniform, her haggard appearance – and understood she had probably just come off a watch.

"Is there something wrong with my work, Chief? Any complaints." The Electronics Technician Seaman Apprentice had just graduated from "ATT" and "A" school at NTC Great Lakes but it appeared as though the CO of the USS Gainsville didn't want to give her a chance to show that she could do what was required on a combat ship.

"It seems that the Captain wants you to get some experience at Fallon, NV and see what working ET is really like. Then you can apply to a combat position onboard a surface warfare vessel. To tell you frankly, Coates, you don't seem like your heart's in the position." Chief Bentley looked at her with a taciturn expression gauging her response.

"Yes, Chief." Coates deflated, not a good sign. It looked like she had given up and just wanted off the damned ship. "Where are my orders?"

"I've got them right here. You report to NAS Fallon in two days, so you'd better gather your gear and get your butt on a plane over there."

When Coates had left, Chief Bentley picked up the phone and dialed Commander Selvaggio, the CO of the USS Gainsville. "She's not too happy about being axed, sir. I hope she'll be OK."

"She's a strong one. She'll do fine…" was CDR Selvaggio's response. What Jen didn't know was that the Commanding Officer of the USS Gainsville was one of the commanders who were termed as "fire-eaters" and who wanted those under them to succeed and prosper as US Navy servicemen (both genders) and seeing a new recruit coming in from Great Lakes, he wanted to point her career in the right direction. That's why he was pointing her to his former CO. Commander Luciano (Luke) Selvaggio knew that given the right direction in his ETSA, Jen would have a long and rewarding career, pulling her out of the _Navy or jail_ stigma that stained her enlistment jacket. Even though his rejection of her staying with the USS Gainsville would sting, it would be better for her in the long run to serve under his former commanding officer – where he had learned that his career strengths were in surface warfare rather than as a naval aviator.

_**Meg & Animal's Home, 4700 Pasture Rd, NAS Fallon, Fallon, NV, 2200hrs**_

It was surprising; Meg hadn't lost her appetite for meat, despite pregnancy - no strange cravings that involved him heading out to twenty-four hour convenience marts in the middle of the night. Animal had changed in preparation for dinner not long after coming home from the base. "I hear we're getting a new Electronics technician to help with the work on the range systems." He notified Meg as she was finishing up her dessert – vanilla ice cream and strawberries with a heaping mound of chocolate syrup. He raised an eyebrow at her choice of dessert and said casually "Thank goodness Harm isn't around…" he uttered as he looked over at the heaping mound full of slowly trickling chocolate syrupy covered ice-cream goodness with surprise.

Meg nodded noting that Animal was eyeballing her dessert, "Well, additional help at the base is good, you've been saying that there are several electronic systems out on the range that require maintenance and in answer to your second statement, yes, Harm would probably get castrated with a rusty spoon if he mentioned that ice-cream and strawberries would make me fat." The last was punctuated by her gripping her spoon viciously.

Animal reflected that it was a good thing that Harm wasn't there to hear the threat directed at him: Harm would have paled at the thought of sweet Meg viciously castrating him without the benefit of anesthetic, and Animal also resolved that he wasn't going to mention any damned thing about Meg's eating habits. Not if he wanted to escape with his life. Medal of Honor or not; **he** wasn't _that_ brave. His experience with Texas tomboys was that they could be especially scary especially when hormonal. Animal was silently thinking that _for the spouse who wasn't giving birth,_ _dealing with a woman who was PMS'ing, was akin to walking through a mine-field blind-folded in steel-toed boots with a steel shank._ _Couldn't sense a damned thing and you wouldn't know if you were safe or in danger until you blew one of those mines up. Dealing with a woman who was pregnant and hormonal was akin to setting a ring of claymores around you in a circle, scrambling up all the clackers and then clacking them at random. You knew that an explosion was coming; it's just that you didn't know what direction it was coming from._

Nope, he wasn't going to test the hormonal anger of Megan Austin-Nakamura – not one bit. He was going to ask Master Gunnery Sergeant Stacker if he could borrow his flak vest and PASGT. It was prudent to be cautious, wasn't it? At least, that's what he reassured himself with.

_**Washington – Ronald Reagan National Airport**_, _**Washington, DC 0320hrs.**_

Harm remembered to push his time forward four hours when he got on the plane in Reno to put the time on DC local time. When the wheels on the B757-200 touched down on the runway, Runway One to be more exact (understandably, due to restricted airspace over the Ronald Reagan National Airport VOR airliners were to skirt the DC metro area, and land from the south), the time that they landed was 0310. With the taxi into the ramp, the B757-200 cracked hatch to open onto the jetway leading into the terminal at 0320 hrs. An exhausted Mac and Harm got out of their seats, grabbed their carry on and headed up the jetway to baggage retrieval. They thanked their lucky stars that they had packed light, because there was going to be a lot to do in a week's time.

It was a quick taxi ride to Mac's home in Georgetown and Harm coughed up the cab-fare, a double sawbuck, a dollar bill and a quarter and pulling their luggage out, they dragged it all into her apartment suite. She collapsed on the couch, breathing a deep sigh of relief, "Ah…this is good to be home for a while. Do you think anything's open at this time delivering?"

Harm's look was incredulous. "You know DC. If you order a pizza it takes them damned near an hour and a half to deliver and when you get it, it tastes ice cold. By the time we finish eating, it'll be time to get up."

Mac chuckled, knowing that Harm was right. "I guess hopping on a plane in the evening wasn't the best idea knowing that we'd get here at three in the morning. And American Airlines doesn't have an in-flight menu for domestic flights. Have we really been away from DC that long that we've forgotten just how lousy the takeout delivery times are?"

Harm laughed softly as he dropped a soft kiss on the back of Mac's neck and massaged her shoulders. "I know, sweetheart. I guess it'll just mean that we're even hungrier when we get up in the morning. Do you happen to know of anything good around here that we could go and grab first thing in the morning?"

"The first thing you're doing, squid, is walking me into a Starbucks – there's one by N 31st St & N Wisconsin Ave."

Harm nodded affirmatively, his jarhead wouldn't be in a tolerable frame of mind in the morning until she had her morning coffee; hot, strong, and able to melt steel. Mac met his eyes with a satisfied grin on her face. After three years of working with her day in and day out, Harm knew Mac was definitely not a morning person until coffee was imbibed and settling into the couch, he wrapped his arms around Mac trying to make sure that they could both ignore their growling stomachs until morning.

Mac moaned softly, her fatigue getting the best of her, as she felt him squirm underneath her laying on top of him on the couch in order to find a more comfortable position. In a throaty whisper, she grabbed his hands and pulled him off the couch to follow her to the bedroom. "C'mon…let's get some sleep…we can grab food tomorrow." Harm's eyes darkened, his breathing went shallow and his pace towards the bedroom quickened – following her into the room like an eager puppy dog, stopping only to shove the door closed with his feet.

_**Mac's Apartment, Georgetown, Washington DC, 0835hrs**_

Yawning, Harm pulled his arms out from under the covers where he had been embracing Mac's slumbering body. Turning his head slightly he eyeballed the clock. His brain function slowly aligned with his barely opened eyes. 0830 was on the 24hr clock setting that Mac had on her alarm clock. His soft groan caused Mac to stir beside him yet not awaken. He gaped at the clock as he rarely overslept; his brain barely registering the fact that he had gotten in so late his body had had to rest long enough to sweep away the fatigue and thus far only five hours of sleep had him fit to open a cavernous pit where his mouth used to reside. That particular act roused Mac from her sleep as she growled an scathing epithet that would have made MGSGT Stacker blush.

Before Harm could even utter a morning platitude; Mac growled, "The first words out of your mouth had better be let's go get coffee...Mac or else..." She let the ominous silence hang as a punctuation mark.

Harm opted to do the safe thing and kept his response to just one word. "Coffee?"

"Why thank you, flyboy" her words dripped with saccharine sweetness. "I thought you wouldn't ask."

Harm shook his head in wonderment, saying nothing as he walked over to his clothes from yesterday that were strewn all over Mac's bedroom floor and put them back on. Clean clothes would just have to wait until he could grab a shower. A shower was unimportant when faced with the prospect of a grumpy, uncaffeinated Marine who was surgically adept with a K-Bar.

Coffee run, it was...

About ten minutes later, a slightly less grouchy and fully dressed Sarah Mackenzie strode out of the bedroom into her living room with an acknowledging grunt to Harm who without a word ushered her out the door to venture out of Mac's apartment building to seek out the aroma of the brewed result of percolating the coffee bean.

Upon the successful culmination of their search and holding two steaming take-out cups of coffee later, Harm and a more amicable Mac returned to her home with some breakfast to down while they were waiting for the moving supplies store to open.

"What time did they say on their sign?" Harm queried his companion about the time the store would be ready to welcome customers for the first time that day.

"The sign said 1000hrs" automatically converting to military time, "exactly fifty-two minutes and thirty-seven seconds from now". She answered, ignoring his befuddled look as she handed him her coffee to hold while she reached into her purse for the keys.

Harm resisted commenting on her ability to discern the exact time it would take for the store to open while trying to balance both bags of food balanced precariously in the crook of his arms and cups of coffee in his hands "OK. Marine, let's eat up. We got a long day ahead of us." Managing to keep from fumbling the coffee and food bags, he and Mac made it up to her apartment suite – he retained the coffee and food bags while Mac opened up the main door to the suite. By that time, the toasted nut like aroma that emanated from the coffee cups nearly made him throw the bags of food on the kitchen table and hurriedly place the coffee down; one beside each bag then grab for his own coffee to take a well-relished sip. Mac raised one eyebrow and glared pointedly, clearly unimpressed with his over-eager desire for the morning java as if to say _I waited…and you couldn't?_

After rolling his first sip of coffee on his tongue, Harm grinned unrepentantly. "I'm sorry…"

"You should be…" Mac muttered caustically, but an amused glint in her eye neutralized the acidity level of her comment as her own sip of coffee gradually restored her disposition. After breakfast, the two settled into the task of packing up Mac's house which would take up their time for the next few days, then start in on Harm's home.

_**Commanding Officer's office, Naval Strike Air Weapons Center, NAS Fallon, NV, 2 days later**_

Electronics Technician Seaman Apprentice Jennifer Coates, braced at attention, stood silently as Animal looked over her file. Jen felt the oppressive silence pressing in on her as from the time that she had reported to her new commanding officer, she felt as though she did not measure up to his intense scrutiny. He had given her a brief, evaluating stare and that was it. From then on, his face had been scrutinizing her file – not even a nod of acknowledgement. Even before she had even had an inkling of being transferred, she had heard about this commanding officer, his reputation amongst the fleet was one that was spoken about in whispers in quiet corners of the mess deck – those who measured up to his standard had long careers under his command, those who hadn't had been cashiered out quickly and for good reason and other commanders who received the ones who didn't get cashiered out knew that they were receiving capable subordinates who knew their job and did it properly. She hoped that she would be the former of the three options – one of the ones who made it and stuck with his command, but judging from the look on the admiral's face, he was reading over the rap sheet from juvie that had followed her into her Navy file and the stigma from the _Join the Navy or jail_ order.

Jen hoped that he would give her a chance to prove herself under his command then started as the admiral spoke for the first time in fifteen minutes since she had reported in. "Ee-Tee Ess-A Coates." he intoned pronouncing each and every letter of her enlisted rating. "I know that you're not aware of the reason behind your commanding officer sending you here. Let's just say that he understands the system and that he wants you to have a long and rewarding career in the Navy."

_Rejecting me from his command was a funny way of showing it_. Jen thought silently, because vocalizing that thought would have brought a warning for tone from the admiral.

"What I've read in your jacket is that your FITREP has indicated that you are a solid sailor and that you follow orders, but are extremely opinionated. I don't mind opinionated. ETSA Coates. In fact, I'd think of you as a kiss-ass if you proceeded to agree with everything that I say. But you will have to learn to work within the system if you want to avoid stepping on toes." Animal intoned, silencing her with a stare when she tried to object and noted. "…and some toes tend to be more tender than others and they hate being stepped on. You don't have the rank or the seniority to tread on tender toes with steel toed boots. That only comes with stars." Animal cracked the first grin that he had grinned since she had stepped into his office while pointing at his flight suit's shoulders where two embroidered white stars lay. Admiral's Privilege.

"Yes, sir." She replied.

"So, Coates, you want the chance to serve under my command?" Animal asked bluntly as he leveled a hard look at her.

"Yes, sir." Jen replied, her spirits lifting for a brief moment.

"Then good, report to Commander Cole Cavanaugh, he's in charge of the Electronics Technician section at NSAWC and he'll brief you on your duties."

"Thank you, sir."

Animal nodded. "Dismissed, ETSA. Oh…one more thing:" he said briefly as Jen Coates looked slightly alarmed to get saddled with something else. This intake interview had been a stressful situation for her and Animal was well aware of that. "You've been in uniform for three years? I want you to write your Seaman's exam this month. That'll add to your workload, but you need to move up and inside of six months, I want you to write your Third-class. Am I clear on that, ETSA Coates?"

"Yes, sir!" Jen's face brightened as she responded to Animal's instruction. Sure, she could do that; maybe she could make a go of it in the Navy.

"Good, now go talk to Commander Cavanaugh. Dismissed!"

"Aye-aye, sir!" Jen braced, about-faced and headed out of Animal's office.

As the door closed behind her, Animal said to himself softly as he grinned at the remembrance of the eager tone in her voice, "She'll do fine." He chuckled under his breath as he looked over at the requisitioning files that MGSGT Stacker had laid on his desk.

_**JAG Detachment NAS Fallon, Naval Air Station Fallon, NV**_

Meg was going over some case-files in her office, which happenstance was located in clear view of the law clerk who was dealing with a Marine Staff Sergeant who was in-processing, giving the clerk her orders from higher ups. "Yes, I'm who the papers say I am…" her irritated growl sending shivers down Meg's neck causing her to look up and then stiffen in recognition. _How the hell…did…was that her…that voice is unmistakable…when the hell did she get reassigned here?_ Meg got up from her desk; her seven week gestation had made her have to put her whites in to get taken out slightly. She couldn't wear the form-fitting service-whites any-more and the bloating feeling in the mornings had made her irritable and what she was seeing out in the in-processing was making her feel like she could go nuclear at any second. She stepped out of the office, striding over to the clerk asking, "Legalman, is there a problem?" her service whites with two and a half stripes on her shoulder-boards making the Staff Sergeant stiffen up into a brace.

"Ma'am, I'm supposed to ask for identification." The Legalman stammered looking between the Staff Sergeant of the United States Marine Corps and the Navy Lieutenant Commander. "That's the rule around here, ma'am."

"I understand, Legalman Two, but the question was what the problem is? Is there a reason why she's not producing it?" Meg's short fuse was starting to burn now.

"Well, the orders and her personnel file have the same image, but I'm supposed to ask for ID just in case so that there is no mistake and the Staff Sergeant seems to think that the file photos should be enough."

Meg turned her icy blue eyes on the Staff Sergeant. "Well…Staff Sergeant, the rules are that you produce ID. Where is it?"

The Staff Sergeant paled and produced her ID card. Meg reached out and took it. "My office, Staff Sergeant." She strode back to her office, the Staff Sergeant on her heels. Entering her office, ushering the Staff Sergeant in, she shut the door, then turned around and looked the shorter enlisted non-com up and down…then growled…"Staff Sergeant Alexa Marie Reed." She intoned placing emphasis on each name, then looked up sharply knowing full well the answer as to the question that she was about to ask. Her law-school instructor would be proud. "Do we happen to know each other from somewhere?" Meg's tone was dripping with sarcasm.

"The Staff Sergeant fails to remember, ma'am." _Oh, good answer_ Meg fastened an icy stare on the braced Staff Sergeant.

"Well, my memory appears to be much better, Staff Sergeant Reed. Because eight years ago, I recall myself being referred to by you as Candidate Barbie. Do you happen to recall that, Sergeant Reed?" Meg said icily as SSGT Reed, USMC started to pale.

"Candidate Austin?" the SSGT gasped.

"The name is Lieutenant Commander Nakamura now!" Meg waited for the Staff Sergeant to go sheet-white as Meg looked over the Staff Sergeant's orders. With some satisfaction, she noticed SSGT Reed looking over at Meg's left hand noticing the wedding ring on the finger. "I see you are in-processing for Naval Strike Air Weapons Center." She said, casually, still noting that her previous disclosure still discomfited the Marine Staff Sergeant.

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Good!" Meg said simply as she handed the Staff Sergeant's orders back to her. "Now that you are processing in, have you taken care of all of it or are you just starting the process?" It wasn't for friendliness that Meg wanted to get Staff Sergeant Reed's in-processing complete. It was so that she could get that damned ex-DI out of her sight and oh, her husband was sooo going to be dead tonight, or at least sleeping on the couch.

"No, Ma'am. Just starting the process." SSGT Reed replied.

"Well, let's see if we can expedite the process…" Meg gave her a follow me.

"Ma'am, I'm sure you're busy, you don't have to do that…" SSGT Reed stuttered.

"Not a problem. Staff Sergeant." _Just wait till she finds out who her Commanding Officer is going to be. _Meg's thoughts were malevolent.

_**Mac's Apartment, Georgetown, Washington DC, 1135hrs (2 days later)**_

Glancing at the packed boxes around her place, Mac sighed as Harm finished stacking the last box of books on the top of a pile of boxes stacked three high. Tomorrow, they would start packing Harm's boxes. Most of the things were going to the house, but there would be a few select boxes that would be going into storage in a Nevada storage rental unit. Now it was sinking in just as to how much the move would be akin to marriage – the pooling of their things together and the realization that they lived in a home together. Mac sighed again.

"You OK, Mac?" Harm asked, worry creasing his face.

"It just seems funny that the place that I used to live in for so long is being packed up and I won't be living here again. The next time that we have to come out here is when I finish selling this place or hopefully they can do it long-distance. I had to foist my case load onto Meg and I'm sure that she can't wait until I'm back to give it all back to me." Mac looked over at Harm. "I can't believe it, Meg's pregnant and expecting a child in the new year."

"It's certainly been a year of changes." Harm agreed as he took the tape-gun and sealed another strip of tape over the two flaps, just to make sure that the box was secure.

"So, tomorrow we start working on your apartment. When are the movers going to be showing up?" Mac inquired.

"1000hrs, next Monday, so we'll have to get my place packed up by then." Harm walked around the piles of boxes making sure that they were labeled and ready for shipment by American Van Lines; that eighteen-wheeler was going to be a monster to load up in the cramped streets that typified Georgetown or the area, north of Union Station where he lived. The moving company was going to have to do some major heroics to be able to park anywhere near Union Station. "Looks like we'll be eating out a lot."

"Oh, good…" Mac, she sounded way too eager. "Beltway Burgers?" Harm looked absolutely horrified. "You promised…" she insisted.

Harm smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "I did, didn't I?" he admitted reluctantly as he looked over at Mac who beamed, a look of triumph written all over her face. "How did you manage to talk me into that?"

"Because…I'm so loveable?" Mac replied, smirking at him.

"If you say so…"


	10. Forgiven

_**Commanding Officer's office, Naval Strike Air Weapons Center, NAS Fallon, NV, 1300hrs**_

"Chief!" Animal called out from his office as the NSAWC Chief Yeoman Leon Trebalos walked by his door. "Did you happen to see if Maintenance got the OLS working again?" Trebalos looked over to the admiral who was drumming the heel of his pen against the desk with a rather increasing tempo.

"The thing is working, _sir_ but some _Güey_ ran the wagon over a nail and the _chingalera _has a flat tire." Trebalos replied, noting the fact that the admiral looked rather perturbed. Animal shook his head, rolling his eyes. Trebalos knew that sometimes Maintenance drove the admiral out of his mind.

"Yeah. Tell Maintenance to see if Coates can fix that problem. We need it so that we have an optical landing system on our carrier mock-up strip." Occasionally the admiral liked to throw in a carrier landing into one of his combat hops because the aviators during blue-water ops wouldn't have the luxury of coming home to a stationary landing strip. They'd have to be able to fly a mission, fight the enemy and then turn around and land on an aircraft carrier and do it repeatedly.

"Aye aye, Sir." Leon replied as he made a mental note to make sure and tell the commander in charge of the Maintenance Division of NSAWC that the admiral wanted the OLS operational ASAP.

"I think I'd better pay them a visit." Animal got out of his seat, a firm scowl plastered to his face. A non-flight day; he was in khakis; an intimidating array of ribbons on his rack and _that would serve to get the admiral's point across_, Trebalos thought to himself. Commander Rodrigo Palomo would be feeling some heat for not getting his MILSTRAP requisition form in on time for much needed parts for the electronics and other systems and other items under his purview as well. It seemed Maintenance was always short of necessary parts and that wasn't something Trebalos' CO would let stand especially with the amount of students passing through NSAWC on any given week. If the whole system went down heads would roll and the admiral would get the brunt of it. Striding towards the front office door with a perfunctory "As you were..." Animal headed out to have a matter-of-fact talk with CDR Palomo.

Having to track down CDR Palomo wasn't putting Animal in a very good mood at all. The simple fact that the commander hadn't even realized that the admiral was looking for him wasn't a good omen for the commander because the longer that Animal had to look for him, the more the shit was going to rain down on him. His ire rose as the minutes ticked away.

Animal irately told the AM2 that he didn't give a flying fornication that the commander was busy, that he outranked the commander by four ranks and that if Palomo didn't get his ass out there on the double, that Animal would find a replacement that would. That implication, projected by Animal at a volume that would have made steelworkers in a fully operating foundry look up and take notice, got the commander out there straightaway. After locking the commander up at the position of attention, Animal paced in front of him, the heat emanating visibly off his torso; and the steam coming out of his ears. Growling, Animal stopped two paces in front of Commander Rodrigo Palomo and snapped, "How fucking long is it going to take to get that OLS in operational shape again? And I'd better not hear two months. Surely, it doesn't take _that long_ to find an operational tire! I need it done by tomorrow because I'm going to be sending these aviators up for a knife-fight and a trap. I don't care what midnight oil you gotta burn to get this done because it's been sitting for the past two months getting progressively further and further down the to-do list." CDR Palomo paled as the admiral stared at him with a cold glare. "If I don't see an operational OLS by 1100hrs tomorrow, you're going to rediscover your usefulness on a cutter on indefinite assignment as a liaison officer to the fucking COAST GUARD! And they'll put you to use counting PENGUINS!" Dropping his voice down to an ominous rumble, he then said, "You have problems with keeping the right parts on hand for the assignments?" Animal snapped, turning to the AM2 as well, who locked up beside his commanding officer. "Well, then let me tell you that the minimum supply that we should have on hand should be twenty of each part. We are NOT to get below that amount, am I making myself clear? You and your entire department, I want mustered for the next forty eight hours and you will do a systematic inventory and have within forty eight hours on my desk a concise report on how short your supplies are. After which you will replenish to supplies to a maximum of one hundred parts per part number. This is _an operational naval air station_; no matter how far out in the boonies away from the swampwater we are!" Animal's demeanor and iron-laced stare caused the commander to brace at a academy plebe-like position of attention. "Make no mistake, you've slid this long, there will be no grace. If it is not done, your transfer orders will be ready for pickup as of forty eight hours from now. AM I CLEAR!?" the admiral roared this at a stentorian volume that would make a sidewinder rattlesnake startle from the vibration imparted to the ground.

_**Mac's Apartment, Georgetown, Washington DC 1500hrs**_

Mac sighed deeply; the packed boxes were picked up by the movers and Mac looked over at the empty space that used to be occupied by those boxes. "Seems like an end of an era, doesn't it?" she remarked quietly taking in the subdued mood as she realized that this was the culmination of decisions that put her squarely in the admiral's crosshairs for transfer. "At least it will be good for my career." She continued, "If I want to get my O5, I need to have at least a staff tour at a RLSO. But I'm going to miss DC." Mac looked over at her tall boyfriend; or _was it lover now_…she thought to herself.

Harm appraised Mac, her stance was stiff and her arms were crossed. Evidently she had a lot of attachment to this place. A home was a refuge, he realized, and Mac came here to find safety. Now she would have to adjust her definition of safety as she acclimated herself to sharing her environment with Harm.

"Now…let's go home and pack your stuff…" Mac commented, turning slowly, her misty eyes seeing Harm standing there waiting. Reaching out for Harm, her arms going around his neck, she leaned into his kiss. "We need to stop by the realtor's office and drop off the keys so that they can do something about renting this place out. I've decided not to sell it, but keep it as an income property." Mac stated. Harm nodded in acquiescence. At least that would defray the costs of their new home in Fallon.

"Sounds like a really good idea if we want to get back to Fallon on time." Harm replied. "I want to make sure that Sarah is all ready for her flight. It's gonna take us a few days to get back; I don't want any delays." He winced. "I don't want Animal growling at me. If I end up late he may have me towing the aerial gunnery chute." Aerial gunnery target towing was a thankless job and dangerous too. The tow target was designed to practice leading the gun pipper and it gave the Hornets something to shoot at with their guns. Sometimes the trainees made mistakes which caused frayed nerves and soiled underthings for the tow crew.

Mac looked at Harm, mouth open: "He wouldn't do that, would he?"

Harm grumbled. "He would and with a smile too."...but cracked a grin, "...so that's why I want to get back before he transforms himself into a grizzly bear." Harm said as he guided Mac out the door with the palm of his hand at the small of Mac's back. Her smile was warm and affectionate.

From Georgetown to Union Station was a rather lengthy drive considering the traffic situation at that time in the afternoon. With that in mind, Harm and Mac decided to stop in at Beltway Burgers to pick up some food. "So what are you going to do with your Corvette? Harm?" Mac asked him as they walked into the fast-food restaurant. The stop at this greasy food joint was to satisfy Mac; while Harm would make do with what passed for edible food, namely a salad.

"I was thinking that I might POV ship my Corvette to Fallon, then I can stop renting a vehicle while I'm there." Harm said after a moment of deliberation. Mac grinned; knowing just how attached Harm was to his car. They were shipping their household goods to the PCS and it would take a few weeks to get there. At least then, Harm would know that his beloved vehicle was being shipped with the greatest of care. Supposedly. Harm sighed as he pondered the decision of going along with their original plan which was to pilot Sarah (the Stearman), Sarah (his girlfriend) along for the ride, to Fallon and entrusting his beloved steed to the iniquities of military POV shipping or just saying _screw it_ and taking the vehicle with them and entrusting Sarah to a wintering over and then hit up Jack Keeter to fly it over to KFLX (Fallon Municipal Airport). They paused for a moment taking in the menu to see what was there.

"Hi, may I help you?" the teenaged cashier at the counter asked.

"Sure, I'll have two Beltway Bacon Cheeseburgers, triple patty with cheese, a Beltway Biggie order of curly fries, a Beltway Deluxe chocolate milkshake and a Beltway Strawberry Cheesecake." Harm looked over at Mac with an expression of horror. "…and a Salad for him…" she said tossing her thumb casually over to indicate Harm.

"What kind of salad?" the teenager asked, her eyes opening wide at Harm. _What a hunk…_she thought.

Harm took a deep breath as he looked at Mac with a wry expression. "I guess, I'll have the Beltway Asia Deluxe salad; no dressing."

"Would you like croutons with that?"

Harm grimaced a bit. He knew exactly what these fast-food joints described as croutons; cubed bread hard enough that one could break one's teeth on them. That was why he passed on them most of the time unless he was feeling especially masochistic that particular day. Harm figured that if he wanted to get a terrorist to talk, feed him nothing but fast-food establishment croutons for breakfast, lunch and dinner and he'd get the terrorist to talk in no time. "No thank you, miss." He stated; "but I will have a bottled water."

"Well, that will be twenty four dollars and fifty six cents, Will that be credit card, cash or debit?"

"I'll go with debit…" Harm said pulling out the card as Mac demurely stepped back without even a token protest at Harm stepping in to pay for the entire order.

_**JAG Detachment NAS Fallon, Naval Air Station Fallon, NV, 1630hrs**_

After dealing with the in-flux of new staff from the air station that needed legal services as well as snapping two pencils in half while taking notes on her cases still on file, Lieutenant Commander Meg Austin-Nakamura wanted to scream epithets at full volume at anyone's direction if they tested her patience. Plus on top of that, her stomach was doing a ever-so-joyful gut churn, every time the wind changed direction Meg was not a happy camper at the office that afternoon.

Even worse, two days previous, the intake of one United States Marine Staff Sergeant Alexa Marie Reed had turned her mood sour. _Why did her husband have to bring in that bitch?_ She wondered; a little angered that he wouldn't have taken her feelings into consideration or was there something else other than that driving the reassignment of the staff-sergeant to NAS Fallon? Needless to say, she hadn't seen SSGT Reed since her intake and she was glad of that. The insufferable enlisted witch had made her life a living hell in OCS. If there was anyone whose guts the usually affable Meg could have hated, it was SSGT Reed. She had asked her husband if he had lost his mind since he hadn't said anything about her former DI showing up at the one base in the CONUS that she was based at. _If there was a deity in control of her life,_ Meg thought, _he sure has a piss-poor sense of humor. _ Meg rolled her eyes at the case file in front of her. This was going to distract her to no end. She finally, upon seeing the clock hit seventeen hundred, decided that distraction was going to cause her no end of problem and grabbed her briefcase, shoved the files into it and headed for home.

Captain Albanesi would just have to be able to do without her for the late afternoon. She was feeling rather queasy and didn't want to pull extra overtime. Not to mention with budget cuts, CAPT Albanesi would flip if anyone pulled more OT than needed. Besides in the mood Meg felt, she needed some _me _time and being able to soak in a nice warm, but not hot, bubble bath would do her nicely. Besides, she had a bit of a revenge planned for her husband after dropping her former DI in her lap the day before yesterday: a wonderful surprise that she had not appreciated very much at all. She was going to keep her eyes on where that DI was going and what she was up to. Not that she didn't think that there was anything untoward, but Meg's hormones were all over the damned place and she wasn't thinking very clearly and topping it all off the queasiness had made her have to run to the washroom to empty the contents of her stomach so she hadn't had much at lunch either for fear of it making a reappearance, making her hungry and irritable. Not a good combination at all.

She got home ill-tempered, after having to stop somewhere on the drive home to throw up. Even the motion of driving the car and making left and right turns had been a problem. Perhaps she would get her husband to drive her to and from work from now on. _Served him right for getting me pregnant_. She thought. "…_If I puke in his car…_" she grumbled to herself as she got out of her car and headed for the house. Meg wasn't sure when Animal would get home, but she was going to enjoy some solitude before he came home; she was damned well going to enjoy her bubble bath and she didn't feel like cooking dinner. Dropping her briefcase off inside the doorway and shutting the door with a satisfying slam, she picked up the phone by the entrance way.

"Hello?" Animal's voice was clear on the other end of the line.

"Honey…I've had an absolutely shitty day." Meg grumbled, "Could you do me a huge favor?"

"Anything, sweetheart." Her husband's voice sounded highly amused.

_What the hell was he so amused for?_ Meg thought, _Hmmmph! _"I don't feel like cooking tonight. Could you pick up some dinner…for us?" she asked, her tone sugary sweet; the irritation thinly veiled behind her syrupy dulcet tones. Any husband who knew anything about their woman knew that when that tone was used, the best thing to do was to dig a bomb shelter, bury themselves and not come back up again for three weeks…as luck would have it…just in time for the next round, that is…if their beloved wasn't in the family way. If their darling was in that way…the best thing was not to come up for the next nine months.

Animal registered that tone loud and clear. "Yes, sweetheart. Any ideas what you'd be in the mood to eat?"

"Something that formerly had fur and grunted…" Meg said sarcastically. "You can figure that out by yourself." She replied petulantly.

_**Animal's office, Naval Strike Air Weapons Centre, Fallon, NV, 1700hrs.**_

Animal winced. Evidently she was still pissed off about SSGT Reed. "OK…dear. I presume that thing you wanted to eat formerly wallowed in mud."

"YES!" Meg's reply was loud and clear. Chinese food tonight, it was. Frankly, it was the only thing that Meg could keep down. One order of _char siu _coming up. Animal thought to himself. _Guess I'll go to Wing's Restaurant and Sushi. _ It was the place that his Meg liked the most…and perhaps he should pick up some flowers too. Animal figured that he'd better add in some chocolates just to make sure that he was forgiven. Considering the reaction he'd had to his former DI requesting assignment at NSAWC, he should have known that Meg would have the same reaction, if not worse to the news of her former drill instructor being assigned there as well. Hopefully he'd be forgiven in time or he'd get used to the couch.

"OK…I'll make sure that I make the order before I leave so that I can pick it up as soon as I get there."

"When are you coming home?" Meg asked pointedly. "It's 1715 now!"

"I'll be leaving in about ten minutes, love…" Animal replied as he gathered his papers and shoved them into a _do file_ for the morning. "I'm gonna make the order now and they should have it ready and on the warmer by the time I arrive."

"OK…drive safe." Meg said.

"I love you…" Animal ventured an endearment as he wondered just how amenable his wife was to being approached that way.

"I think I love you too…Hmmmph!" Meg sniffed peevishly as she hung up. Yep, she was still pissed at him. Animal grinned wryly. Well, there was a few ways that he could salve the raw temper of one Meg Austin-Nakamura. After phoning in his order to Wing's for pickup, he stopped by a well-renowned chocolatier who specialized in bringing in the finest Belgian Chocolates and bought about seventy dollars worth. From there he visited a florist shop which specialized in roses. Buying a mix of two dozen roses set him back about sixty dollars, but it was worth it for his beloved wife. Then he set about heading over to Wing's and picking up the Chinese food order.

When he arrived at Wing's the order was just about finished.

"Oh…hi, Admiral. How was your day." Kenny Wing Kuan-Yin, an elderly gentleman in his seventies, his white hair and bushy eyebrows set close to his dark brown eyes as he peered over his glasses at Animal.

"Oh…extremely busy. How are things? Lao Wing." Animal grinned at him. Kenny was always asking him how his day was whenever he dropped by to pick up food.

"Oh...so-so good. You know...too much work not enough play." Kenny smiled a close-mouthed grin. "Your order coming right up." He headed into the kitchen through two swinging doors. "Fai dee, man sing zi, zung jiu dik haak jan deng hou! What you doing? Sleep on job?!" After a few more exhortations in Cantonese, Kenny emerged with three brown paper bags laden with delicious smells emanating from its interior.

"M goi...Lao Wing." Animal said "Maan on and that's the extent of my Cantonese..." Kenny grinned in response. "My wife taught me just enough to trip over my tongue and make a fool of myself." They both laughed.

"Next time you bring wife." Kenny admonished, a mile wide smile on his face. Meg had been ordering from Wing's long enough for Kenny to know she spoke fluent Mandarin and Cantonese. He however did not know as Animal did; that learning those two languages was an essential part of her Naval Weapons and Intelligence training.

Animal laughed, bid Kenny Wing a good night and left the restaurant.

_**Meg and Animal's Home 4700 Pasture Road, Fallon NV, 1830 hrs**_

Meg soaked in the tub; her hair damp from having washed it, the water was bubbly with the bath bubbles and she soaked in the nice warmth of the tub. She had candles set up on the sink ledge which threw a dancing pattern of light against the mirror and the ceiling. She enjoyed the silence as she waited for her husband to get home. With the warm but not hot water lapping over her skin, a feeling of calm and relaxation crept over her and she relished the warm feeling that she felt from her neck to the tips of her toes. She caressed her baby bump, gingerly feeling the rise of her belly with her fingertips and smiled. Despite the queasiness throughout the day and the increasing discomfort of her belly, she enjoyed the fact that there was a little one there.

Her ears picked up the key in the lock, the noise of the outside audible as her husband came in the door. The crinkling of bags told her that her husband had made a few stops on the way home. "Honey? I'm home..." His voice wafted up to the bathroom where she was comfortably in the tub.

"I'm up here, Tosh...in the bath." Meg called out.

"OK, up in a minute." Animal put the food; in the bags on the table from the sounds of it. A bit of running water in the kitchen caused Meg to listen intently; a little crackle of foil-paper and the unwrapping of something made her wonder as to the origination of those noises. Which was answered in about ten minutes by her husband at the door holding a vase filled with an explosion of red roses. Meg's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Forgive me?" He said simply.

Meg whispered as she leaned up from the tub to meet his lips in a passionate kiss, "I love you..." When their lips parted; her blue eyes were smoky and his were almost black. "I want you...but I'm starving..." She murmured huskily.

"Temporary raincheck then?" Animal grinned at her.

"Oh most definitely, we'll take this up after we finish dinner." Meg's voice was throaty as she reached up a dripping hand to caress her husband's face.

_**Meg and Animal's Home 4700 Pasture Road, Fallon NV, 1925hrs**_

Animal looked up from his plate as he finished the rest of his dinner. Then he got up from the table and went to the kitchen to clean off his plate in the sink before depositing it into the dishwasher. Meg followed him in, carrying her empty plate too. Silently she washed the plate off and as Animal did, she deposited it in the dishwasher. Then she turned to see Animal holding out a still wrapped box of chocolates. Her favorite Belgian chocolates from the DC chocolatier. "You spoil me, you know that." She said huskily as she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in for the second passionate kiss of the evening.

"I love you..." Animal said simply, as that were explanation enough.

"...and I love you too." Meg replied. "I shouldn't have gotten so angry about the staff sergeant being assigned to Fallon. I know you're only trying to surround yourselves with competent people able to do the tasks you need them to do."

"But I should have also taken into account your feelings about her as well; and the fact that she really was a nightmare to be around during OCS. You're the most important person in my life and I should be more mindful of that fact." Animal replied, his hand reaching up to caress the side of Meg's cheek; their eyes meeting.

"You're forgiven...my love." Meg responded, grasping her husband and leaning in to capture his mouth with her lips. "Now...I want to make love to my husband."

The grin on Animal's face never left for the rest of that evening.

_**Hangar 26, Naval Strike Air Weapons Centre, Fallon, NV, 0700 hrs (next morning) **_

Animal strode into the hangar where two F-5Es were parked undergoing maintenance; a wide malevolent smile on his face "Good morning, gentlemen. Today we have a two vs. unknowns hop. You will be divided into six groups of two crews. This is an F-14D Tomcat class, I see, so each group comprises of two Tomcat crews: aviator and RIO." He grinned evilly as he looked over at the assembled crowd. "Gentlemen. You will not know which aircraft is coming at you, until you're up there at Angels 35 wondering why in God's name you got your sorry ass out of bed this morning. I've had my early morning briefing with the aggressors that will be assisting NSAWC instructors this morning at 0600. So it's been an early morning." He growled. "Assignment of sectors is on the board, file your flight-plans with ops; get your METREPs from meteorological, you will maintain hard deck of Angels 10; that is non-negotiable. Do you understand?"

"Aye sir!" came a crisp chorus of acknowledgements from the crews.

"Very good." Animal grinned evilly as he turned from the dais. Whistling _Come Josephine In My Flying Machine_ he let out a nasty laugh as he headed out the open hangar door.

One flight crew looked at the other, "I think we're going to have a bad day, Cubby."

"Yeah, You're telling me…my gut says he's gonna be up there."


	11. Shit Falls From Above

_**Naval Strike Air Weapons Center, NAS Fallon, NV, 0745**_

The ear-piercing whine of jet engines starting up rent the desert air. The heat was just starting to rise as the clock hour hand slowly made its way towards oh-eight hundred. Animal stared out at the F-14s starting up their engines and nodded approvingly to himself as he looked over at Tombstone. "It's gonna be a good day out there, kid." Animal said. "Nice blue sky…I think we'll take the Flanker-Viper for a spin, shall we?" The Flanker-Viper was a blue-tri-toned F-16N. There were only two that hadn't been grounded for hairline cracks in the bulkheads of the fuselage and those two were what were going up today. Tombstone nodded in response.

The two NSAWC instructors; CO and IP headed for their mounts on the far side of the airfield a good walk away. As they walked, a jeep hailed them and they got on it as two other IPs headed that same way but on motorized transport.

"Thanks a bunch." Tombstone grinned at the lanky Texan in the driver's seat. "I thought we were gonna have to walk all that way. If we did, the newbs would be back before we even got airborne."

"Thought y'all needed a ride." Commander Eoin "Lizard" O'Shea drawled as he stomped the accelerator down the flight line as he headed for the far end of the airfield where the NSAWC F/A-18s were parked along with the two lonely F-16Ns. "A mighty far way to walk in this heat."

Animal grinned as the jeep screeched to a halt in front of what would be Animal's F-16N. "Thanks, Lizard." Animal acknowledged Lizard's favor as the jeep stopped in front of the aircraft just long enough for Animal and Tombstone to bail out. Tombstone's was parked right beside Animal's. They both hit the pavement running; headed for the F-16Ns doing a thorough exterior preflight making sure that all the stuff that could potentially fall off the aircraft or get sucked into an intake were secure: weapons, aircraft parts, furry or in this case, scaly critters. Flying a fighter wasn't a _kick the tires, light the fires_ venture. If something fell off one's aircraft or got sucked into a jet intake, it could, understatedly, give the aviator a bad day.

Animal peered up at the canopy rail which was just slightly above eye-level. His mount looked as though it squatted on the tarmac. The F-16N was a repurposed Block 30 small-mouth Viper which was able to take both the F100 and F110 engine. The F-16N that Animal was taking into simulated air combat today was a F110 engined Viper with a lot more power as he was going to simulate a Flanker. Ideally, he should fly the NSAWC F-14 for this one, but he decided against a similar aircraft and opted for the F-16N.

Looking up at the cloudless morning sky, his aviator sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, he was startled by a voice saying, "Beautiful day to fly, isn't it, sir?" He looked over to see a ETSA with brunette hair in a bun, her brown eyes merry as she grinned at him.

"Good morning, Coates." Animal inquired, recognizing the young woman who had been standing in front of his desk, in processing to her duty station, several days previous, "Duties on the flight line?"

"Yes sir. CDR Cavanaugh wanted me to get the lowdown on ET duties at Fallon. He assigned me to aviation electronics." She stated. "I'm finding that I'm learning a lot, sir."

"Good." Animal said as he turned to another scurrying AM2. "Everything checked out on the bird, AM2?"

The AM2 snapped to and nearly saluted. "Yes, sir! She's all ready to fly."

Animal grinned at Coates who looked at Animal with a question present in her eyes as he walked around the F-16N with Coates following his every step watching him as he did his walk around. "Good for you, Coates. I'll talk to you about your rating test after this hop. I gotta go chastise some fighter jocks who've gotten a bit too big for their britches."

"Applying tough love, sir?" Coates asked cracking the first genuine grin that Animal had seen from her.

Climbing the ladder of the F-16N, he looked back at her with a grin of his own, "yeah...somethin' like that..." He affirmed. Settling himself in the cockpit of the F-16N Viper, the AM2 helping him with the ejection seat harness. Animal pulled his flight helmet out of his helmet bag, pulling out the mask and taking one bayonet clip and attaching it to the receiver on one side of the flight helmet. Giving Coates a thumbs-up as she looked on fascinated by the pre-flight procedures that a naval aviator had to do in order to get flight-ready. Arranging his flight helmet on his head in a utilitarian manner, as warriors of old did with their helms, fastening his helmet on his head with the helmet chinstrap, he set about checking the oxygen feed coming through his mask. When satisfied, he set about starting the pre-flight cockpit checklist prior to starting engine; there was only one on the F-16.

Coates looked on fascinated by the rituals of naval aviation. The AM2 noticed her watching the admiral making his pre-flight preps; and drolly grinned. "Hey Coates, make sure you're clear of the intake or you'll be hamburger!"

"Aye!" Jen shook herself out of her reverie as she scurried to do as the AM2 commanded and scurried over to the side far enough away from the yawning air scoop of the F-16N.

The AM2 raised his left hand overhead with one fingers extended to indicate the number of the engine to be started, and initiated a circular motion of his right hand at head level. Animal raised a thumbs up to indicate that he was starting the engine and all personnel should stand clear. The F-16N used an internal APU attached to a fan that pushed bleed air through the engine producing enough electrical power for an independent engine start; no huffer cart needed. Coates scurried to comply with the request. When she had done that task, the all-clear signal was given and all cleared the general vicinity of the F-16N as the engine spooled up and a high pitched whine filled the air. Animal lowered the bubble canopy of the F-16N and raised a thumbs up to both Coates and the AM2 and saluted them. As tradition both snapped to attention and saluted him back. Disengaging the nose wheel lock and tapping the throttles slightly forward, Animal eased the Viper forward and taxied along the flight line towards the taxiway and headed out towards the runway.

Jen, watching the departing F-16N, marveled at its small size and sleekness and wondered even more about the CO of NSAWC. Evidently he was renowned as a commanding officer and she certainly didn't feel put-upon to have to bring her efforts up to expected level. He was tough and fair and it didn't hurt that naval aviators had that certain mystique about them. Coates hadn't realized just how closely she would be working with the naval aviators at this base.

The reverie was interrupted by the F-16N now a far distant shape turning onto the runway, then the increase in engine noise to a sound that sounded like a giant ripping a gigantic sheet of paper amplified by one hundred fifty percent as the F-16 shot an orange afterburner flame out the rear of its engine and accelerated down the runway lifting off about two thirds of its length. Coates marveled as the F-16 as it cleared what appeared to be the end of the runway at 30 AOA yanked its nose up and executed an eighty degree angle of attack climb-out. "Wow!"

"Trust me...Coates." The AM2 grinned as he looked at her. "Admiral's departures never get old. He still flies like a bat outta hell. Best damned fighter jock, I've ever seen; best damned CO I've ever served under."

"You mean that?" Jen asked as she looked at the F-16 which was now a barely discernible speck in the sky.

"Absolutely one hundred percent, Coates. You stick with this CO and you'll go places." The AM2 said. "So Cavanaugh assigned you to flight line duties? Well let's see which aircraft have got the down chits for electronics and you can go about helping us get'em back in the air. How about we check out that line of F/A-18s?" The AM2 grinned at her and she nodded in reply as they walked down the flight-line to the hangar where several F/A-18s had engines out of their fuselages and panels open for repairs of avionics. "So, skipper said that you're supposed to complete your ET (A) rating within three weeks then we'll try to get you to ET3 in the next six months in time for the next round of enlisted promotions. By the way, I'm Aircraft Maintenanceman Second Class Art Toivonen. I'll be your mentor on the flight-line; follow my lead and I'll introduce you to some other ET Threes and Twos and that way, you'll get up to speed."

_**Harm's Apartment, North of Union Station, Washington DC, 0800hrs**_

"Is there any coffee on?" Harm heard Mac over the running water. "I think I'm going to need some when I get out of the shower."

"I'm making some right now." Harm replied to Mac's query as he scooped some fresh coffee grounds into the coffee filter and started the coffee brewer. "How long are you going to be?" he asked loud enough so that Mac could hear him, "I'm starting it now and I don't want your coffee to get cold before you get out."

"I'm just finishing up and I'll be out in about five minutes. Just so long as it's piping hot and Marine grade, I'll be fine." Mac replied as she shut off the water and started towelling off.

"OK…making it potent enough to scrape the barnacles off the side of the Seahawk. Just the way you like it. Mac…" Harm replied grinning to no-one in general as he was alone in the kitchen.

"I knew I loved you for some reason." Mac came out dressed in Harm's bathrobe, towelling her hair, smirking at Harm. "So…once I'm human, I guess we have to go out and get some boxes so that we can pack up all your stuff and get it ready to get shipped. Then what do we do about your plane?"

"I figure it'll take us until about tomorrow to finish up packing here and then it'll be a day and a half of prepping Sarah. She won't take too kindly to kicking the tires…and taking off, and she needs to be in top shape in order to fly out three-quarters of the way across the country." Harm explained, a rather satisfied look on his face as he realized just how fun it was going to be to fly the Stearman all the way across the country. "I'm also going to have to look at the weather over the Mid-west. Thunderstorms tend to pop up regularly in the late fall; second tornado season and all that, Mac. I don't want to end up with us flying into a CB (a cumulonimbus cloud). Sarah won't be able to handle it and there's no point in us dying trying to fly through one of them. So I think we'll take a northerly route and then curve down through Wyoming and Utah before we hit Nevada."

"Sounds like a trip." Mac said. "I'm looking forward to it." Her eyes sparkled as she looked over at Harm.

"So what do you think? You pack up the utility closet and all the clothes that I don't need and I'll start packing the majority of the kitchen?" Harm asked; a mischievous smirk on his face.

"That sounds fair." Mac said, her mood much better since she had a shower and a cup of coffee. "Just so long as we have something to eat out of and the bed doesn't get disassembled till the day before the movers show up." Harm nodded in agreement. "Now what were we going to do about food for breakfast? Eat out? If so I need to change into some work clothes."

Harm said, "I don't think I have anything that's suitable for cooking. I'm going to have to throw most of it out." he said pulling out a garbage bag. "It's too old to be healthy."

Mac decided for him. "Well, let's go out and get some food to eat after I change, then we can probably think better. It'll probably be better to pack with food in our stomach, instead of sneaking off and getting a snack every so often."

"Sounds good to me." Harm agreed. "But do we need two people going out for food?" He rooted around in his pockets pulling out his keys.

Mac's eyes widened, "You're trusting me with the Vette?" She asked.

"I seem to recall dimly one night when I was plastered..." He grinned at her. "I think we got home in one piece." Harm made a motion to scratch his head and Mac smirked at him.

_**Rogue Flight, TACTS Range Bravo, NSAWC Training Range, Fallon NV 0820**_

"Rogue One, this is Rogue Two…" Tombstone radioed. "Three contacts bearing 130 degrees high."

"Rogue Two…Rogue One, let's pay them a visit." Animal looked up over his shoulder to see the three F-14D Tomcats heading away from them. "Heads in scope." His hand gripped the throttle and pushed it forward, accelerating, as he rolled the F-16N, pointing the nose up towards the flight of F-14Ds. Tombstone followed. "Time to wakey-wakey the natives." Animal chuckled under his breath as the F-16N rapidly gained altitude.

"Holy shit, where did they come from?" were the surprised voices on the TACNET as two F-16s bounced three F-14Ds who were unable to form a cohesive defense against the two attacking Aggressors.

"Calling Atoll shot on Rattler Lead." Animal radioed to the TACTS range judges as he centered a bouncing F-14D in his sights.

"Roger that, Rogue One, you have a kill. Rattler Lead, do you copy."

"Roger." The glum voice of the Tomcat driver was clear through the TACNET. Animal looked around for the other two Tomcats.

_**Rattler Two, TACTS Range Bravo, NSAWC Training Range, Fallon NV 0823hrs**_

"Rattler Three, two of us left." Cubby grumbled. "I told you he was up here." Cubby tried to get his Sidewinder to lock on the F-16N that was bouncing in and out of his sights; there was no way to get a steady lock. "I can't lock him up, I can't lock him up." His RIO was silent looking over to make sure that there was no-one else on his six.

_**Rogue One, TACTS Range Bravo, NSAWC Training Range, Fallon NV 0823**_

Animal grinned a malevolent grin underneath his oxygen mask. He missed flying the Turkey, but he relished the new lease on life he'd gotten when he'd been assigned to NSAWC. "C'mon…Cubby…you can do it…" he grinned to himself as he coaxed the F-14D in closer. Letting loose a chuckle; he waited…reeling Cubby in. "C'mon…Cubby…just three more seconds…"

_**Rattler Two, TACTS Range Bravo, NSAWC Training Range, Fallon NV 0824hrs**_

"Where the hell are you? Rattler Three…" Cubby growled as he tried to reel the F-16N in. "I think I've got him, I think I've got him."

"I'm on your wing, but I've got the other guy hassling me." Rattler Three radioed back.

"You're on my wing…stay put!" Cubby warned. "When I take the shot, you and I will take the other guy."

The F-16N hung in the sight long enough for Cubby to say "Fox Tw-" and then Cubby noticed an orange flame coming out of the F-16N's burner can as the F-16N jumped out of his missile lock reticle like a scalded cat.

"Fox Two on Rogue One…was determined to be a miss…Rogue One evaded." the voice of the TACTS range judge came over the TACNET.

"Damnit!" Cubby nearly screamed in frustration as he yanked the stick to try to follow it, but his energy had bled out to the point where he couldn't pull his nose up to go into the vertical. "I can't hold my nose up." Cubby snapped, "I don't have energy…I don't have energy." Cubby realized that he had gotten too slow and the F-14 didn't have the forward momentum to pull into the vertical and could only watch in dismay as the F-16N climbed higher and higher and then rolled over the top like an avenging angel.

_**Rogue One, TACTS Range Bravo, NSAWC Training Range, Fallon NV 0824**_

Animal snickered as he heard both Rattler Two and Three cuss up a blue streak. Animal had just kept enough AOA and energy so that he could pull up into the vertical and had just waited just long enough for Cubby to commit to taking a shot, then got the hell out of Dodge. Pulling the F-16N over the top, he heard Tombstone taking an Atoll shot on Rattler Three, who waggled his wings and bugged out. Rattler Two was rattled. The question was, did the naval aviator in the Tomcat have any more fight in him? NSAWC wasn't just about tactics; the pilots were also being evaluated and their warrior spirit was assessed. If the instructors felt that the aviators weren't warriors as well, that would also be communicated to the aviator's commanding officer and sooner than later, the aviator would find himself transferred to a squadron that didn't have anything to do with tactical aviation.

Dropping down to form up on Tombstone's wing, he let the junior instructor take Cubby, but Cubby wasn't about to go down without a fight. The fight went into a rolling scissors where one aviator tried to force the other out in front so that they could take the shot. Animal was assessing his instructors as well as the NSAWC students. That was the role of the commanding officer. The fight ended with a good maneuver on the part of Tombstone who rolled his F-16N to slip neatly behind the F-14D and killed him with an Atoll shot that on the electronic screen of the judges tracked beautifully in a straight line up Cubby's port burner-can.

"OK Knock it off, knock it off, knock it off…RTB, Rattlers One, Three, leave the regeneration coords and form up on me. Rattler Two, Rogue Two form up on my wing." Animal barked out as they pointed their noses back towards Fallon.

_**Harm's Apartment, North of Union Station, Washington DC, 0925hrs**_

Mac re-entered the apartment with a bag laden with food; she had borrowed the Corvette just long enough to run to the restaurant to pick up breakfast for the both of them. She could hear Harm's stomach growling as she walked over to the island to deposit the food there. "I'm back..." She rustled the bags just loudly enough for a disheveled Harm to hear.

"OK. I've got most of the clutter removed and there's garbage bags that I have to take down. Most of my clothes have been packed away. Don't want the movers making holes so the furniture's being brought out to the living room." Harm informed her; patting his hands, then his torso, to get the dust off his clothes.

"Ewwww. Go wash your hands!" Mac waved a hand in front of her face to dispel the dust motes swirling around. "I hope you have a canister vac because you're leaving a dust trail."

"Yes ma'am". Harm grumbled.

"Git and wash up or the food's gonna get cold." Mac admonished suppressing a grin as she pulled out the food in takeout containers. It was just a breakfast greasy spoon just around the corner but it had some nice breakfast burritos. Harm, being the vegetarian, got the egg and lettuce burrito and Mac, being the voracious red meat eater ended up with sausage and egg. Two containers of hash browns complemented their breakfast and Harm's stomach growled as it indicated its hunger. Harm inhaled the scents coming off the hash browns, closing his eyes in sublime bliss as Mac tried to keep from bursting out laughing.

"Eat! It's going to get cold!" Mac repeated, holding in her laughter, as she motioned Harm to sit down after he'd amscrayed to the washroom and wiped his clothes of dust; as well as washed his hands.

"Thanks, Mac, for running out and getting the stuff. I didn't realize I had so much stuff to pack until I really got into it." Harm acknowledged the favor Mac had done by getting the food. "It's going to take a day and a half just to pack up everything and get it all into boxes." He mentioned indicating the currently empty boxes with his hands.

_**Debrief; Naval Strike Air Weapons Center, NAS Fallon, NV, 0935 hrs**_

"So, what could you have done? Lieutenant?" Animal looked over at Cubby who wilted like a lit candle.

"Monitored my airspeed…" Cubby reluctantly said; his ego bruised. "My airspeed was down and I didn't realize it."

"Because…" Animal indicated Cubby to continue.

"…because I boresighted, sir. I was too busy trying to get Rogue One in my boresight and failed to realize that I was getting slow; then when Rogue One pulled up into the vertical, I didn't have enough energy to match his maneuver." Cubby hung his head.

"Energy is life, Lieutenant. Rogue One had you, he could have pulled over the top, reversed direction and hammered you with an Atoll. Then when you realized that you didn't have energy, you didn't check six and figure out where the other guy was; you knew where the guy up top was, but you didn't look for his trail. And Rogue Two got your wingman with an Atoll, then when he went after you, you went into a rolling scissors with a more experienced aviator, end-game." Animal slid his hand across his throat in a cutting motion, then hammered home the points, eyeballing Cubby. "_When you don't have the advantage_, your only option is to find a way to bug out: pull a hard right and extend, pitch your nose down; regain energy and separation…get out of missile range, then re-evaluate the situation once you're clear. Only if you feel that you can take the guy _do you re-engage_. Understand?"

"Yes, sir!" Cubby said; feeling his tail-feathers toasted.

The debrief was succinct, but detailed. Every cross-section of the fight was assessed and gone over so that the students and the instructors could learn. Animal was a MiG-Killer so his instruction was well-received and the students took his instruction to heart. The instructors also learned new things from him. And the instructor debrief sessions were looked forward to as the instructors could also make changes in the way that they debriefed their students to be more effective.

The debrief was wrapped up and the students went off to the simulators with Tombstone in tow and Animal headed to the locker-room to shower and zip up into a fresh bag. An ACM hop was akin to a boxing match and a workout all wrapped into one and the sweat-factor was just as great so diving into the shower was a necessity after such an exercise. After all that was complete; freshly garbed in a different sage green flight suit with all the accoutrements of rank on the shoulders, embroidered nametag on his chest above the left breast; Animal walked out of the locker-room bound for his office and then to the hangar to check on his latest enlisted protégé.

_**Hangar 17,**_ _**Naval Strike Air Weapons Center, NAS Fallon, NV, 1045hrs **_

"Afternoon, Chief." Animal addressed the Chief Aviation Mechanic. "So…how are the birds doing?"

"Well, aside from the shortage of parts that is currently being addressed at the moment…" The AMC nodded at Animal. "Sir, we seem to be short on quite a few parts."

"I addressed Commander Palomo about this matter yesterday. Has he gotten the staff to assess the parts inventory yet?" Animal narrowed his eyes at the AMC.

"He was going to call a meeting this afternoon regarding the matter, sir."

"That's not good enough, Chief, I want every single one of the men assembled here right now." Animal said.

"Yes, SIR!" The AMC was efficient and less than five minutes later, Animal had a group of enlisted men surrounding him eager to hear what the admiral was about to say.

"Gentlemen, I understand that there is a shortage of aviation parts in inventory." He looked over at the group. "I want the matter rectified or there will be fallout: we cannot have aircraft unable to fly. I'm assigning you to inventory the parts and Chief, I want you to sign off on the parts inventory forms. That way we are well aware of what inventory parts are needed to be requisitioned in the appropriate quantities. I also want you to recommend an appropriate quantity and list of parts that we need to always maintain on hand. On that I wish to see a minimum quantity which we must maintain at all times – this will be the amount of parts of each type that we will not go under to maintain operational standard in the maintenance department." Animal looked over at each and every one of the enlisted men and officers who were standing in a semi-circle. "We are an operational unit and as such we must maintain a minimum standard and exceed it. I do not want to see any less than one hundred of each part; we need to be able to maintenance every aircraft on this airfield if any go down. So…let's get at it."

"Aye, sir!" the chorus of cheerful acknowledgement from every enlisted echoed through the hangar.

"Now, do you know where Commander Palomo is?"

"Yes, sir." The AMC indicated the office.

_**Maintenance Office,**_ _**Naval Strike Air Weapons Center, NAS Fallon, NV,**_

Commander Palomo didn't know what the hell happened as the flight-suited and disgusted looking rear admiral came storming through the office doors. "On my heels…Palomo." the rear admiral said spitting out the words. The stunned commander looked at the rear admiral. "You are hereby relieved of duty…under § 892. Art. 92. Failure to obey order or regulation by your superior. You were hereby told yesterday to assign staff to detail inventory aviation parts under your purview and responsibility. That meant that you were supposed to assign them to inventory parts yesterday, not tomorrow or the next day. You failed to execute that order in a timely manner. AMC, get the MPs." Animal snapped.

"Yes, sir."

"Who is second in command?" Animal turned to the office staff looking stunned.

"Commander Glen Holloway, sir."

"Get him out here." Animal growled.

In less than two minutes, CDR Holloway was standing in front of him.

"You are hereby replacing Commander Palomo as Commanding Officer Maintenance Department, NSAWC. Am I clear on that. You will hereby monitor your staff as they conduct parts inventory and execute your orders upon receipt from a superior officer. I am relieving Commander Palomo for dereliction of duty. You have twenty four hours in which to conduct an inventory of all aviation maintenance parts currently on hand; you also have another forty eight hours from the completion of the inventory to bring the parts up to acceptable minimum amounts; my acceptable minimum is one hundred parts per inventory SKU codes unless they are bolts or other fasteners, of which the minimum will be set at 100,000. Is that clear?"

CDR Holloway's eyes widened in surprise and he acknowledged as he looked upon the ashen face of his former commanding officer. "Errr…yes sir."

"MPs…" Animal said, looking over at the MPs who had appeared, side-arms at their sides. "You can escort Commander Palomo to detention." The MPs stepped to the side of the ashen faced CDR Palomo and led him off to detention. "Make sure that the inventory is done as soon as possible." He ominously warned the equally ashen-faced Commander Holloway. "We have an operational command to maintain."

"Aye aye SIR!"


End file.
